


All the Roads Lead to Rome

by fandommatchmaker19



Category: For the People (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-03-14 16:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18952138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandommatchmaker19/pseuds/fandommatchmaker19
Summary: Various scenes, snippets and in between. Not necessarily connected. Focusing on JillxRoger, but featuring other characters as well.





	1. Gentle Comfort

After the police leave in a flurry of apologies and Roger calls the FBI, and they’re both finally released, he watches Jill hug herself, wrapping her pajama-clad arms around her midsection, as if she’s struggling to hold herself together. He wants to wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly, tuck her head under his chin, rub his hand along her back, but he can’t, not yet. They give their statements almost in a haze, and his ears are still ringing even as he does. The FBI secure his apartment and ask them if there is anywhere they can go since the door repair would take a while.

“We can go back to my place,” she says softly and he nods. Jill moves to the bedroom, and he can hear her shuffle as she packs a few things, mostly his since she already has things at her apartment. “Roger,” she says, her voice soft, and he startles, his heart hammering in his chest. She’d changed, into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and a black duffel bag is slung over her shoulder.

“Yes?” he turns to her.

“You should get changed and we can go,” she tells him, motioning for him.

“Yes,” he agrees. “Okay, just give me a minute,” he says before making his way to the bedroom. He pulls on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and shrugs a hoodie on before joining Jill in the hallway.

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Gunn. Take care,” the FBI agent tells him and they shake hands before Roger leads Jill out of the apartment, his hand resting on her lower back. The way to Jill’s apartment is quiet, though he laces his fingers with hers and she lays her head on his shoulder and he presses a tender kiss to her temple. She leads the way to her apartment, and as soon as they’re inside and the door is locked, they reach for each other, the duffel bag dropping to the floor. He wraps his arms around her waist as she winds her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer to him as he buries his head in her silky hair, inhaling the comforting scent of her shampoo. He can feel her tremble against him, can feel her body shake in his arms and all he can do is hold her tighter and whisper soothing words in her ear.

“We should go to bed,” she whispers, pulling away from him and resting her forehead against his. Roger cups her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her soft skin as he presses a tender kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah,” he whispers against her skin, nodding slowly. The duffel bag lays abandoned on the floor as Jill pulls him with her towards the bedroom. They fall onto the mattress, and Jill grasps his hand tightly, lacing her fingers with his and tilts her head up to press a soft kiss to his jaw. He leans into her touch and rubs his thumb against her knuckles as she leans her head against his shoulder.

“You’re hurt,” she remarks gently and he looks down to notice that he was, indeed, hurt. There was a scrape on his forearm and it was bleeding slightly.

“I’m fine, Jill. Just a flesh wound,” he says with a smirk, referencing the Monty Python movie they’d watched just a few nights ago when they’d gotten tired of SportsCenter reruns. But she’s already moving, and she returns mere seconds later with a small first aid kit. He lets her dab antiseptic spray and stick a Band-Aid over the wound, instead focusing on her, her silky blonde hair, the comforting familiarity of her face, her bright blue eyes that are still glassy with tears, the way she furrows her eyebrows in concentration. “Thanks,” he says softly and Jill looks up, smiling at him fondly.

“Let’s get some rest. We have to be at work in a few hours,” she says, her lips curling into a smile. “Why?” she asks and Roger knows what she’s referring to immediately and his blood runs cold as the realization hits him.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. “It was the press conference, Jill, I am so sorry I-”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. We’re okay, that’s what matters,” she says, cupping his cheek.

“It is not okay, Jill. Swatting is not okay,” he says firmly. “But, you are right. What matters is that we are okay,” he concedes and Jill’s lips curl into a smile. “You’re okay,” he says more quietly and she shuffles closer to him before brushing her lips against his. He responds immediately, tugging her closer, his hands resting firmly on her waist as she slips her tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders. She pushes him gently, and Roger lets himself tumble onto the bed, pulling her with him, his fingers tracing circles over her hips, tugging at the waistband of her jeans as she yanks his t-shirt off. When air becomes a necessity, they pull away, and his hand drifts up to cup her cheek.

“We are okay,” she says firmly and he nods before gently brushing his lips against hers.

“Yes,” he breathes out when he pulls away.

“You want to take a shower?” she suggests, her voice barely above a whisper, and he nods, half-smiling.

“Okay,” he says and she gets up, returning with the duffel bag a minute later. They shower together, letting the hot water wash away the events of that night until it runs cold. They crawl under the covers, and Jill curls herself into his side, nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck, her nose brushing against his skin. He wraps his arms around her waist, pressing himself firmly into her back and brushes his lips against her temple. She’d stopped shaking, finally, and within minutes she falls asleep, clinging to him. Roger can’t sleep, though, so he continues to stare at the ceiling, hoping sleep would eventually come.

* * *

It’s after Julian Sarco gets convicted, after his mother comes to thank them for defending him, after Sandra goes home, her eyes glassy with tears. They meet in Foley square and Jill can see how tense he is, how tightly he’s carrying himself, fists curled at his sides.

“Hi,” she says as soon as she is within inches of him.

“Hi,” he greets her back sadly.

“Shall we?” she asks, pursing her lips. They don’t touch, not yet, as they start walking towards Chambers Station, and only once they’re far from Foley Square does Jill brush her fingers against his hand. Roger doesn’t respond, not at first, and Jill looks over at him, and finally Roger loosens his fists and laces his fingers with hers. It’s silent, but nothing really needs to be said. She leans her head on his shoulder on the train, and Roger presses a tender kiss to her forehead.

The door of his apartment had been fixed and the apartment was theirs once again. [Well, it was still Roger’s apartment, Jill didn’t want to seem presumptuous, but it was safe for them again]. The moment he locks the door behind them, he turns and presses her against the door and Jill lets out a soft yelp as she winds her hands around his neck, tugging him closer as he starts kissing her neck, burying his head in her silky blonde hair, breathing in her shampoo as Jill pushes off his coat and his suit jacket. Roger’s hands find themselves on her shoulders, pushing off her blazer. They pull away briefly, foreheads resting against each other as she unties his tie and he fumbles with the delicate material of her blouse.

“Bedroom,” she mumbles headily against his lips and Roger doesn’t need her to say anything else because he’s practically dragging her to his bedroom and pushing her onto the bed and Jill isn’t saying anything. And, then, his lips are on hers again, hungry and demanding, as he presses her into the bed. She lets out a moan and fumbles with the buttons of his shirt as he finally pulls off her blouse, letting the delicate material fall on the floor. They sit up, pulling away briefly to pull off their pants and then they fall into each other’s arms once again, their hands everywhere. Roger’s fingers tug at her long, blonde hair as he trails kisses along her jaw and Jill threads her fingers through his hair, her hips grinding against his. And, then he pulls away and she captures his lips with her own, slipping her tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss.

Eventually, they fall into each other’s arms, exhausted, and he curls himself around her, draping his arms over her waist as she lays her head on his chest.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice a soft whisper as she traces circles on his chest.

“Yeah. Or, I will be. I don’t know, I just… I wanted more,” he says and she can feel him tremble with emotion. “Senator Carson deserved justice,” he says and Jill sighs sadly.

“He did. And, you gave it to him,” she can feel that he’s about to rebut her, so she continues, “Roger, he was just a kid who got too involved in the world of that videogame. He didn’t know better. Yes, the consequences of his actions were horrible, but he didn’t mean to kill anyone,” she says looking up at him. She can see that he doesn’t agree with her, not entirely at least, but he nods, reluctantly. “But, you did punish him for what he did do,” she adds and he nods again. “And, that was right.” She can see that there is something else, something else bothering him, and she cups his cheek gently before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “What is it?”

“Nothing. I’m okay,” he says, pulling her closer.

“Roger…” she sighs softly, her tone disbelieving.

“We could’ve died that night,” he blurts, and she looks up at him, sees the guilt in his eyes.

“Roger…” she repeats, reaching to cup his cheek.

“You could’ve- I could have lost you,” he says, his voice cracking with emotion, and Jill can’t help but look at him in concern. “It was the scariest of my life. And, you were there, Jill. I can’t forgive that- I can’t forgive myself for that,” he says, his voice practically shaking with emotion. There’s a pregnant pause as Jill looks deeply into his eyes, trying to think of what to say to him, how to comfort him.

“I’m okay,” she starts, voice firm. “It wasn’t your fault-” he cuts her off.

“Yes, it was. The press conference, I-” he starts to argue, but she interrupts him.

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known,” she says, her voice full of conviction. “And, you’re going to have to forgive yourself because there is nothing to forgive. And, even if there were, I already forgave you, so you really have no choice,” she tells him, smiling fondly as she caresses his jawline gently.

“Thank you,” is all he says before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her lips.

Eventually, after the heady, almost desperate lust had worn off, they fall asleep in each other’s arms, their limbs tangled together.

The bedside clock reads 03:00 when she wakes up, and Jill isn’t exactly sure what wakes her, but Roger is as stiff as a board next to her. [Or maybe she is, maybe what wakes her is the screams of armed men, Roger’s voice yelling that she’s unarmed, the sound of the door being knocked down ringing in her ears].

“Roger?” she mumbles, glancing over to him, scooting closer to him.

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry,” his voice is choked.

“You didn’t,” she says. “You okay?”

“No, I am not,” he replies tensely, turning to face her. “You should go back to sleep,” he says, reaching to rub his hand against her back in comfort. Instinctively, she reaches for him, wrapping her arms around him, nuzzling against his cheek. At first, Roger doesn’t respond, and then he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, burying his face in her hair.

“I can’t sleep,” she mutters against his skin.

“Me neither,” he says and presses a kiss against her hair. “Me neither,” he repeats more quietly.

Eventually, they drift off to sleep, still in each other’s arms, but it doesn’t last. The next time she wakes, it’s barely an hour later, and she turns, reaching to curl herself in Roger’s strong arms, but finds the other side of the bed empty. [She imagines that this is how it will be for a while in the aftermath of the swatting, that they would both be haunted by the events of that night].

She finds him in the kitchen, standing by the sink, his arms gripping the counter so tightly, his knuckles are white. She steps closer to him, reaching to rest her hand on his shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?” she asks gently.

“I’m fine,” he says quietly, though his voice cracks. “You should go back to bed,” he adds.

“Only if you come back to bed with me. It’s around four a.m.,” she remarks, moving her hand to cup his cheek, rubbing her thumb gently against his jawline. She’s met by silence. He turns to face her, and she can see the haunted look in his eyes, and Jill feels herself ache for him, wishing she could take his pain and turmoil away, but she knows she can’t.

They reach for each other at the same time, her arms winding around his neck, his arms wrapping around her waist. He buries his head in her blonde locks, breathing in the scene of her shampoo, and she tucks her chin over his shoulder, tugging him closer.

Eventually, she manages to coax him back to bed and the next time either of them wakes, the bedside digital clocks reads 08:30. There are no pending meetings for either of them, no clients for Jill, so they shower lazily before eating breakfast. She teases him as he sips on his kale and raw eggs smoothie and he rolls his eyes, eyeing the cup of coffee in her hand.  

“Jill,” he says and she glances up to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for last night,” he says simply. “And, the night before that though I am sorry you had to go through it,” he adds, his tone soft and apologetic.

“Of course. And, I’m glad I was with you. I’m glad you didn’t have to go through it alone,” she replies, rounding the counter that separates them to cup his cheeks with her palms and brush her lips against his.


	2. Vulnerable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 2x10, Roger tries to ask Jill to move in with him.

She looks lovely. She always does, he knows that, but he thinks that in this particular moment, she looks lovelier than ever. He tells her as much and Jill flashes him one of those fond smiles of hers and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s morning, much every other morning they’d spent since they’d gotten together, easy banter as he drinks his kale and raw egg smoothie while she drinks her coffee, a few stolen kisses, hurriedly getting ready for work and trying not to distract each other from doing so.

“I’ll have to drop by my apartment later,” Jill muses as she’s folding several shirts. “Get ready for work,” she explains.

“Or you could bring more things here,” he retorts, completely deadpan. Despite the fact that they were together, properly together, and that they loved each other, they hadn’t, or rather, he hadn’t asked her to move in with him. He wanted to. He’d planned it prior to their short-lived breakup, but once they’d gotten back together they’d been too busy savoring every moment together, and then he’d gotten a job as Chief A.D.A at the New York D.A.’s office which made him busy and he’d tried planning to ask her, but hadn’t succeeded. Or, maybe he was scared. Not that he thought of himself as someone who got scared. He was Roger Gunn. Former Chief of the Criminal Division of the U. S. Attorney’s office. Current Chief A.D.A. And, yet, being with Jill Carlan scared and thrilled him all at the same time. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was scared of. He was scared that it would suddenly crash and burn like his previous marriage, that he would mess up and she would leave. Maybe that was the thing Roger was scared of the most. That Jill would leave him. Like _Renée_ did.

Jill just rolls her eyes and opens her mouth, some sarcastic remark on the tip of her tongue when her phone rings. She glances down at the screen and flashes him an apologetic shrug before picking up.

“Sandra,” she greets and turns, walking back to the bedroom. Roger groans as he starts cleaning up their plates before glancing at his watch. Moments later, she returns, her burgundy coat on top of her suit, bag in her hand and Roger sighs. “I’m sorry, but I have to get to the office right now,” she says, walking over to stand beside him and press a quick kiss to his lips. Roger kisses her back, wrapping one arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Jill brings up her hand to rest it on his shoulder, wrapping it around his neck as she deepens the kiss. Roger thinks he could kiss Jill forever and he would like to do so, but Jill pulls away, reluctantly, resting her forehead against his. “I wish I could stay,” she whispers, her voice soft. “But, I have to go,” she frowns, takes a deep, exasperated breath, and makes her way to the door.  “There’s a situation,” she says breathily, turning to glance at him briefly.

“See you for dinner?” he checks as she puts on her heels hurriedly.  [He’d been planning a dinner out for weeks to ask her to move in with him].

“Yes. Seven o’clock?” she asks breathlessly as he follows her to the door.

“Yeah. See you then. I love you,” he says, leaning against the doorway.

“I love you, too,” she says as she stops right before leaving the apartment and presses a quick kiss to his lips, smiling at him fondly. He tidies up around the apartment before he decides to go to work earlier and get started on his latest murder case.

The D.A.’s is abuzz with activity when he gets in and Matt, one of the investigators, is waiting in his office, a manila envelope in his hand. 

“Matt,” he greets before setting his briefcase by his desk. “What do you have?”

“Photos,” the investigator grunts before handing him the manila envelope. “I hope you have a strong stomach,” he quips. Roger tries to keep a neutral expression and nods.

“Thanks. I’ll let you know if I need anything else. But, stay on this case. Try to find something more,” he gestures with his hand for emphasis.

“Yes, sir. But, trust me, those photos should be good,” the investigator smirks before leaving his office. Roger lets out a sigh and opens the manila envelope, revealing several photos taken at the scene of the crime. He swallows thickly, suddenly understanding what Matt had meant when he said he hoped Roger had a strong stomach. He’s not due at the courthouse for another hour or so, so he decides to get started on some paperwork. [The case is clear-cut, the defendant had already confessed to the murder, to the intent, so Roger was sure he would win. The only problem was that the defense was trying to decrease the severity of the charges to voluntary manslaughter].

The photos he presents as evidence gain him some leverage, but he almost loses it when the defense, a young, inexperienced criminal defense attorney, tries to argue that the defendant didn’t have intent. Luckily, he manages to get control of his emotions before it’s too late and he storms out of the courtroom once the judge bangs down his gavel.

The rest of his day is mostly uneventful, a bail hearing and an arraignment hearing in the afternoon, and before he knows it, it’s almost seven o’clock. He grabs a pile of papers and sets them by his intern’s desk on his way out, and the scrawny intern looks at him terrified.

“These motions needed to be filed yesterday. I want them filed by noon tomorrow. No excuses,” he says flatly.

“Yes, um, sir, I meant-” the Seth Oliver look-alike stutters, but Roger isn’t in the mood.

“I don’t care about your excuses. Have them filed by tomorrow at noon or I will be very angry. You don’t want to see me angry,” he threatens and the Seth Oliver look-alike nods, tears brimming in his eyes. [Roger isn’t sure why the intern reminds him of Seth Oliver, and he wouldn’t ever admit it to Seth, but he misses him].

Jill arrives barely five minutes after he does, her cheeks pink, her face flushed, her hair a tangled mess. She’s wearing a dress and heels and Roger can’t help but let his gaze linger over her well-defined curves and the way the dress defines her slim body. It’s a nice teal color that brings out her blue eyes and she’s standing tall in a pair of black heels. They share a quick, lingering kiss, despite the fact that Roger would have liked to pull her into his arms and continue kissing her.

“Hi,” she says, taking a deep breath before smiling at him.

“Hey,” he finds himself smiling at her. “You look beautiful,” he tells her. She beams at him.

“Thanks. I managed to change right before leaving,” she explains the outfit change, but he shakes his head. [To him she would always look beautiful].

“How was work?” he asks, leaning forward. Now that they don’t work on opposite sides, now that their work doesn’t overlap, he can ask her about her work day. And, he likes listening to her talk about work because she gets this light in her eyes, and she’s gesturing animatedly, and Roger falls in love with her a little bit more every time. His Jill, always so passionate, so fierce and focused on her work, always putting her clients first, no matter what or who they were.

She’s telling him about her latest case and her client and how she has to go head to head with Kate Littlejohn and he can’t help but be drawn in. “Sorry I left in such a rush this morning. Had to get Jay out of a situation,” she adds with a good-natured eye roll as the waiter brings their menus.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. I also got a continuance for one of my cases, got a plea deal for another, and Sandra won a case against Leonard Knox,” she grins at him and he chuckles.

“Are they keeping score?” he asks, amused, as the waiter brings their drinks and they clink their glasses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she retorts, smiling fondly at him. “How’s the D.A.’s office?” she asks, changing the subject as she takes a sip of her wine. 

“Busy. I have an ongoing murder trial for which I got some new evidence,” he swallows thickly, and Jill looks at him in concern.

“Is everything okay?” she asks him gently, reaching to rub her thumb along his knuckles.

“You know, sometimes I honestly don’t understand why people kill,” he can see that she’s about to argue that, to talk about the context, the circumstances, the defendants, but he doesn’t let her. “Don’t. Please, don’t. You know that some people kill because they want to. Because they hate someone so much they want to kill them. You know that, Jill. That is the case I have. And, it makes me sick,” he growls between his teeth. [This is why he hates talking about work sometimes. Because work is horrible. Because people are horrible and twisted sometimes, and it makes him sick]. Jill nods and continues to rub his knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” she says sadly, squeezing his hand. “The world is a horrible place sometimes. So, let’s not talk about that now,” she says before delving into a story about the Yankees and Roger just listens intently because it still surprises him how she can talk about baseball in a way that completely fascinates him, pulls him in, makes him fall in love with her even more. Roger takes a deep, nervous breath, before looking back at Jill her bright blue eyes shining as she continued telling him about the Yankees. “-Roger? Roger!” she said loudly, and he finally snaps out of his reverie.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, forcing a smile.

“Are you okay? You seem distracted,” she observes, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I’m fine,” he shrugs and Jill narrows her gaze.

“Are you bored? Am I boring you with my storytelling?” she quips, smirking.

“No. You never bore me. I love listening to you talk about,” he pauses, his lips curling into a smile, “about everything,” he finishes as Jill stares at him confused.

“Are you okay?” she asks, narrowing her gaze at him. “You’ve been acting really weird. You know, maybe working for the locals wasn’t a good idea. You’ve clearly gone insane there,” she chuckles fondly at him.

“I love you,” he blurts, forcing a smile. Jill tilts her head, slightly confused.

“I love you, too,” she said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. “Roger, what is going on?” she looked at him, confused.

“You make me very happy, Jill. There isn’t-” he starts, but she cuts him off.

“Are you proposing?”

“No, of course not. What? I’m not proposing!” he says immediately, sitting up straighter. [This was not how he was hoping for the conversation to go].

“Roger…” she hesitates, looking at him carefully. “I’m not interested in marriage,” she says seriously, her voice soft. “I love you, but I don’t want to get married,” she says, frowning.  

“Jill, don’t,” he says quickly. “I wasn’t proposing, I just wanted to ask you something. Not marriage something, but I- I-” he’s cut off again, but this time it’s his own phone and he glances at the screen to see that it’s the D.A.’s office. He glances apologetically at Jill, but she waves him off, so he picks up. [His intern informs him that his material witness just got assaulted and may even die]. “I’m sorry, I- I have to go. My material witness was just stabbed and he may die, I need to go. I’m really sorry-” he says regretfully, already standing up and shrugging his coat on.

“No, don’t- don’t worry about it! I completely understand. Anyways, I probably some have work to do,” she says sadly and stands along with him. He helps her with her coat and pays for their drinks and appetizers, and they leave, the atmosphere suddenly tense and suffocating.

“I wanted tonight to be special,” he says as they near the metro station. Jill stops and looks over at him, her lips curling into a soft smile.

“Me too,” she says before tilting her head up and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Another time?” she suggests and he nods. She turns to leave, but he stops her, his hand lingering on her waist.

“We’ll finish our conversation at home?” he asks, bracing himself.

“As long as you don’t propose…” she pauses, smirking slightly, “…yes,” she hits his shoulder gently and he chuckles before wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her back into his arms, causing her to chuckle as she sets her hand on his shoulder, steadying herself. He smiles at her and presses a firm kiss to her lips before reluctantly pulling away. “I’m going to drop by the office to grab some things, and I’ll see you at home,” she says casually and Roger desperately wants it to mean more than her just spending the night at his apartment. His phone rings, almost obnoxiously, interrupting the moment and he sighs, apologizing as he grabs his phone.

“Roger Gunn,” he answers, his hand still resting on her waist. “I’ll be there in fifteen,” he says before Seth 2.0 could say anything else.

“Um, sir, I… yes, okay,” the intern stutters out. Roger ends the call before he can add anything else.

“Do I want to know?” Jill raises her eyebrow, but he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, now I really have to go. I’ll see you later,” he tells her, and they separate.

“See you later,” she says, turning around and disappearing in the crowd of people heading into the metro station.

* * *

Jill had never imagined she would be dating Roger Gunn. Not even in her wildest dreams. [At first, she had thought they would have sex and get over their mutual attraction and go back to being adversaries in court and their friendship would be reduced to baseball games. She’d never expected to find his love of the strangest books insanely endearing. She’d never expected to be eating Denver omelets for breakfast every Saturday morning because Roger loved them. She’d never expected to find herself seeking comfort in his arms when she woke up after a nightmare about the swatting or after losing a case. She’d never expected to fall in love with Roger Gunn]. She also had never imagined that Roger Gunn would ever give up his job for her when their secret was discovered.

She can see the reluctance in his eyes as they go their separate ways, his hand lingering on her waist a second longer, and she can still feel his lips on hers as she rushes into the station. It only takes a few stops to get to the office, but Jill’s mind drifts to the night’s events, and she can’t help but wonder what Roger had wanted to ask her. She wonders if her reaction had stopped him from what he was actually going to ask her or if that had actually been really bad timing on his part. She knew he wanted to give marriage another try, he’d told her as much, but the thought of getting married terrified her. [She wasn’t lying when she’d told him she was never going back there]. As she gets off the train, she tries her best not to let her mind relieve Cliff and her previous marriage.

The light is still on at the office, and upon closer look it became clear that Sandra was still in her office. [Despite the fact that she’d won her case against Leonard Knox, Sandra Bell was tirelessly working on another case, and it reminds Jill of herself when she’d first started working for the Federal Public Defender’s Office. The door was slightly ajar, and between boxes of discovery and piles of files, she finds the young public defender furiously highlighting a document.

“Hey,” she greets her, leaning against her doorway. “Still working on Roberto Price’s case?” she asks as she enters the office. “You know, that hearing isn’t until the day after tomorrow,” she adds.

“Hi. Yes, I think I could get a dismissal,” Sandra replies, not quite looking up from the paper in front of her, her lips curling into a smile. “Otherwise, I’ll have to go against Celia Chavez,” she rolls her eyes.

“I hope you get that dismissal,” she tells her. “Shouldn’t you be at home celebrating winning against Leonard Knox?” she asks, flashing Sandra a proud smile.

“I’m going home in about half an hour,” she shrugs and Jill nods in understanding. “You okay?” Sandra asks, sitting back in her chair, her gaze narrowed.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thought I’d try to get some work done,” she shrugs, but Sandra looks skeptical.

“I thought you had a date with Roger tonight?”

After Roger had quit his job, Sandra’s opinion of her relationship with the prosecutor had changed, and Jill was glad that there was no tension between them because she really liked the younger woman. [Maybe because she often sees a younger version of herself in Sandra Bell].

“I was. We, uh, we got interrupted. Roger got called because of a case, so…” she trails off, unsure of what to say. She’s not used to talking about her relationship with anyone, except for, occasionally Tina, and she finds herself slightly unnerved and yet strangely comfortable with Sandra. 

“I’m sorry,” Sandra says sympathetically, leaning forward slightly, to focus her gaze on Jill.

“Don’t be. It’s fine. These things happen. Besides, maybe it was a saved by the bell situation” she says half-heartedly, causing Sandra to raise a curious eyebrow. “I- um,” she hesitates, but Sandra just motions for her to go ahead, so Jill continues, “I think he was going to propose tonight,” she finally admits.

“Oh?” Sandra’s eyebrows shoot up and she shuts the file on her desk. “Did he?”

“No, he was interrupted,” Jill sighs and shoves the cluttered files on the couch in Sandra’s office to the side before taking a seat.

“And?”

“And what?” she quips.

“Okay, but would you? Would you want to get married?” Sandra asks and Jill steels herself, leaning back. “You said you were married before, but it didn’t end well. Would you do it again?” the younger woman asks curiously.

“His name was Cliff. My ex-husband. He was a mistake, but I- marriage itself was also a mistake. I was lying to myself, thought that it was I wanted. I used to think I was a different person, but I was lying to myself,” she shuts her eyes briefly, trying not to remember her former life. “I was on the partner track at Cordyn & Walsh. Married to Cliff. Trying to get pregnant. But, I was lying in bed every night next to a man I secretly hated and then, openly hated. And then, I also realized I wasn’t a corporate lawyer, I wasn’t that person who worked for a big, splashy corporate firm. So much of my life was a lie, and when I stopped running, I realized that I didn’t want any of it. I had a go-bag and I used it. Left Cliff and never looked back,” she tells her, and Sandra sighs heavily. She lets out a heavy sigh. “To answer your question, I don’t know. I mean, I love Roger and I am happy with him, but I don’t know if I want or could go through marriage a second time. And, I’m worried that marriage could ruin what we do have now, which is good. It’s really good, so…” she trails off and sighs heavily. Sandra nods, her lips pursed.

“Well, for your sake, I hope he doesn’t propose. Yet. So, you have time to figure it out,” the younger woman tells her, smirking slightly. Jill nods.

“Your parents have a happy marriage?” she asks.

“They did until my mom died when I was eight,” Sandra answers sadly.

“I’m so sorry, Sandra,” Jill says apologetically, immediately feeling bad for bringing the subject up.

“Thanks.”

“Anyways, I’m gonna go change and get some work done. You should head home. Celebrate your big win,” she says as she stands up, making her way to the door.

“Thanks, Jill. Have a good night,” Sandra replies as Jill is about to leave Sandra’s messy office.

“You remind me of me a lot. When I first got to the public defender’s office, you know,” she adds, and then turns to leave. She changes out of the dress in her office and into more comfortable jeans and a shirt, swapping her heels for a pair of sneakers before opening up one of the many case files on her desk.

Sandra waves at her when she leaves and Jill waves back before focusing back on the motion one of her first years had drafted.

When she gets back to Roger’s apartment, an hour or so later, Roger isn’t there yet, so she hangs the clothes she’d brought from home in the closet that now seems to be divided in half between them and settles on the couch with a glass of wine, turning SportsCenter on and grabbing her laptop to work on a case as she half-watches SportCenter, though it feels lonely without Roger’s incessant cynical commentary. She’s halfway through a motion when she hears the door opens and a tired-looking Roger enters, his tie off, his shirt sleeves rolled.

“Hi,” she greets him, tilting her head up to brush her lips against his. They exchange a quick kiss before he plops on the couch next to her, settling her feet in his lap and takes a sip of her wine.

“Hey,” he says softly before focusing his attention on the screen. Jill knows him well enough to know that something had happened and he just needs to process whatever did, so she just lets him massage her feet as she continues to work on the motion. And hour later, he’s still staring at the TV screen, though clearly not watching the game it’s showing, his thumbs rubbing absentmindedly along her ankle.

“Do you want to go to bed?” she asks gently as she shuts her laptop and takes another sip of her wine, turning to face him, receiving a nod in response.

They’re both exhausted, and they crawl underneath the covers, instinctively reaching for each other, and she falls asleep with her buried in his side, his arms wrapped around her waist.

After Cliff, Jill had gotten used to being alone in bed, aside from the occasional one-night stand, but it still surprised her how easily she’d grown comfortable with falling asleep in Roger’s arms. Equally, she loves waking up in his arms, prefers it really, loves the way he presses lazy kisses to her hair, along her jaw, down her neck. Roger usually wakes before her, so she ends up spending an hour in between being sound asleep and half-awake while he makes coffee, the other side of the bed still warm like a cocoon.

It’s a typical morning, and she finds him in the kitchen, reading one of his books while drinking a kale smoothie.

“Good morning,” he greets her when she strides into the kitchen, immediately reaching for the coffee.

“Hey,” she smiles at him and leans against kitchen island beside him. There’s a palpable tension, the air thick with words unsaid the evening before, and Jill hates this sort of tension. “So, we didn’t finish our conversation last night,” she blurts, causing him to look up and set his book on the table, his gaze meeting hers. “I really, really hope you weren’t- aren’t going to propose because,” she hesitates, looking down at their hands, inches from each other, and reaches for his hand, before continuing, “because I don’t know what answer I would give you. I told you once I’m never going back to what I went through with Cliff again, but the truth is that I was different then, too, and I- I don’t know what I would say now,” she takes a deep breath before glancing up to meet his gaze. Roger flashes her a gentle smile and squeezes her hand as he stands up.

“Jill, I wasn’t proposing. And, I’m not going to because neither of us is ready yet. But, there is something I want to talk to you about and it’s something I was going to ask you the night I asked you to meet me at the Acres of Books,” he pauses and Jill is immediately reminded of that night, and how Sandra Bell knowing about the two of them had almost permanently broken them.

“Oh,” she says softly, turning slightly to face him properly and sets the cup of coffee on the table. “Okay, ask me now,” she tells him, her heart hammering in her chest with both fear and excitement.

“I love you, Jill,” he begins and she smiles at him because every time Roger Gunn tells her he loves her, she feels a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. “You make me happy and not a day goes by that I don’t want to talk to you,” he says, gazing deeply into her eyes before continuing, “see you. Be with you. That I don’t think of you when I’m not with you. That I don’t wish I’d met you sooner. That I’m not thankful for any time I’ve gotten to spend with you,” he says, his voice gentle and vulnerable, “I want to live with you. I- I want to live together. Will you move in with me?” he finishes and Jill can feel herself spin because Roger Gunn had just asked her to move in with him, had just laid himself bare and open in front of her and it surprises her and makes her warm on the inside at the same time. His blue eyes are still locked with hers as he waits for her to say something, and she glances down at their intertwined hands before leaning down and brushing her lips against his. He responds immediately, his arm snaking around her waist, pulling her closer. She winds her arms around his neck as she deepens the kiss, tugging his body closer to hers, her tongue slipping into his mouth, eliciting a groan from him as his other hand rests firmly on her hip. Their tongues tangle together for a few seconds before they pull away, breathless, their noses brushing against each other. “Jill?” he mutters softly, still waiting for her answer.

“Yes. Yes. Of course I’ll move in with you,” she says, her lips curling into a smile. “Yes,” she repeats breathlessly, and Roger grins before crashing his lips to hers again.  


	3. Baseball, Books, and Donuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger asks Jill if it's okay for his duaghters to come visit. Also chronicles said visit, which lasts about ten days from the point of view of Maggie, his eldest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this - February 2020 is from Jill's POV, the largest chunk - most of April 2020 is from Maggie's POV and the last bit is also Jill. I know this one ended up pretty long, but I hope you'll enjoy!

**February 2020**

It was another one of those quiet evenings, much like so many others since she’d moved in with him. SportCenter was blaring in the background, both of them working, opened boxes of Chinese on the table besides glasses of wine, though Roger had abandoned his to FaceTime with his daughters.

Jill finds comfort in their routine, the word ‘home’ suddenly taking a whole new meaning for her. She loves the way he would rub her feet while absently reading over briefs as she worked on her laptop. Eventually, exhausted they would crawl into bed, and Roger would curl himself around her, his arms wrapped securely around her body, his head buried in her silky hair as she would press herself against his body, tucking her head into the crook of his arm. Of course, other times they would head straight for the bedroom instead of working, and spend the night having mind-blowing, passionate, hot sex. Jill loves the sex equally as much as she loves falling asleep in his arms, maybe more so, because Roger Gunn knows her. [He knows her, knows her body, knows what she likes and what she doesn’t like, knows exactly what she wants].

He returns a few minutes later and plops down at the end of the couch, settling her feet on his lap, grabbing a brief while absently rubbing her feet. She sighs, reaches for her glass of wine and takes a sip before glancing back at him.

“How are the girls?” she asks. She’d said hello to Maggie and Lexie before excusing herself to go work. [She’d officially met them after they’d made their relationship official during one of Roger’s weekly FaceTime dates, and though he always asks her if she wants to join him, she doesn’t want to take away from their father-daughters time].

“They’re good,” he tells her, smiling fondly. “Maggie’s looking at colleges and Lizzie won first place in her swim meet,” he tells her and she can see the pride evident in his eyes. She sets the laptop on the table before pulling her feet out of his lap and scooting closer to him, her head leaning on his shoulder.

“That’s great,” she tells him before tilting her head up to press a firm kiss to his lips.

“Jill?” he mumbles against her hair and she looks up at him, her green eyes meeting his blue ones.

“Yeah?” she asks softly.

“So, uh, listen,” he says and she can hear the nervousness in his voice.

“Yes?”

“I, uh, I was talking to the girls, and they said they’d like to spend spring break with me. Plus, Renée has some kind of retreat, so she’ll be busy. Usually, I take them somewhere and we spend a week there, but I thought they could come to New York?” it sounds more like a question, and she furrows her eyebrows.

“Okay?”

“You’ve only met the girls once while we were Face Timing. I mean, I don’t know, I- I want the girls to come here, but we live together now, and I don’t know…” he trails off, looking away nervously. Jill can’t help but chuckle, earning a glare from Roger. “And, now you’re laughing at me,” he sighs.

“I’m not laughing at you!” she hits his shoulder. “Of course the girls can come to New York for spring break,” she smiles at him. “They’re your daughters, Roger. I love you and you love them. I would love for them to come stay with us for spring break,” she smiles fondly at him and cups his cheek gently, rubbing her thumb along his jaw. Roger smiles and leans into the touch before pressing a soft kiss to her wrist.

“Great. Good, I’m glad,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

Jill just nods and smiles at him before grabbing her laptop and focusing back on the motion she was in the middle of drafting as Roger grabs his brief.

“How’s that case going?” he asks her and she glances over at him.

“Not good,” she sighs. “I’m up against Kate Littlejohn and my client is a pathological liar,” she groans and she sees him sat his brief down.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks her, turning his attention back to her.

“She’s a single mother being charged with fraud and she’s- her story isn’t straight and unless I manage to get a continuance or get this case dismissed or find this impossible witness that would help me, she’s going away for a while and her son is going to be put in the foster system and he’s going to- he’s going to get lost,” the words spill out from her mouth and she doesn’t realize it until he wipes away a stray tear with his thumb that she’d started crying. “I don’t even- I don’t even know if I believe her or how to help her, and I just…” she trails off as Roger watches her.

“Jill,” he says carefully before continuing, “take a deep breath.” She does as told, her eyes meeting his. “It’s going to be okay, you’ll figure this out. What do you always say? This is the case; we work the case? Do that. Don’t let it overwhelm you, just take it slowly. You can do this. I know you and I know that you can help this girl,” he tells her and Jill is touched that he’s not arguing with her about the case like he normally would, but simply comforting her, his voice gentle and soft as he rests one palm against her cheek. “You care more about your clients than anyone else, and I’ve seen you go the extra mile for them so many times. It is one of the many reasons why I love you,” he admits and she can feel her heart beat faster because Roger had a way of making her feel special and loved in a way no one, certainly not Cliff ever could.

She’s at loss of words, so she simply tilts her head up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but Roger moves his head and captures her lips with his own. She deepens the kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth as his free hand wraps around her waist, his fingers skating over her hips as he pulls her on top of him and she shifts slightly so she straddles his hips. Her hands wrap around his neck as his fingers find the hem of her _Go Yankees_ t-shirt that she’d changed in, and they break away as he lifts the t-shirt up, pulling it over her head, leaving her in the bra she’d been wearing. And, then her lips are on his as tangles his fingers in her hair, his fingers gently massaging her scalp while her own hands move to the hem of his own t-shirt, slowly lifting it up. They pull away briefly and she manages to tear the material off before their lips meet again, hungry and desperate as his hands drift to the waistband of her sweatpants.

Briefly, she pulls away to mutter, “bedroom,” headily against his lips, her palms pressed against his cheeks. He keeps one hand firmly on her waist as he leads her to the bedroom and in seconds, he has her pinned on the bed, his hands drifting along her back.

“I love you,” she mumbles against his lips as his hands caress her hips gently. Roger smiles before pressing his lips to hers, his hands wrapping around the back of her neck as he flips them over.

* * *

**April 2020**

The first time Maggie heard of Jill Carlan, her dad’s new girlfriend, was via a phone conversation her mom was having that was, fortunately for her, within her earshot. But, of course, she didn’t really get an idea of who the woman was from what her mom was saying because as usual when her mom and dad spoke on the phone, her mom yelled and then proceeded to throw the phone onto the couch before getting up and going to the gym. [It was a good thing her parents didn’t speak on the phone much, and most of the time it was Maggie who spoke to her dad, occasionally conveying messages between her parents. Maggie wasn’t sure she liked this messenger position she was in, but it was better than having to listen to her mom rant about her dad or hearing them argue on the phone]. But, this was a first because this was the first time she could recall her dad having a girlfriend post-divorce, and really, a part of Maggie was happy.

She and Lizzie later met Jill during a FaceTime conversation with her dad, and Jill was not what Maggie had pictured at all, which was completely different from her mom, but somehow she fit perfectly with her dad. Jill was blonde, her hair straight and parted down the middle and she had green eyes that were warm and kind, and she smiled as she sat beside her dad in what Maggie supposed was their living room. She was wearing a ratty Yankees t-shirt that Maggie knew belonged to her dad and she seemed slightly nervous, though she seemed really sweet.

“Maggie, Lizzie, this is Jill,” her dad had introduced, and she could hear the tremble of nervousness in his voice. “Jill, these are Maggie and Lizzie,” he smiled nervously and Maggie saw Jill rest an arm on his shoulder, and he visibly relaxed. [When the only contact she had with her dad was through Skype or FaceTime, Maggie had long learned to read him through her laptop screen].

“Hi, girls,” the woman – Jill – had smiled pleasantly and Maggie had watched in something like amazement as her dad had casually wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer.

“Hi,” they’d greeted in unison.

“Are you a Yankees fan?” she’d blurted, and Lizzie shot her a look, but Maggie had merely elbowed her sister. Her dad had laughed and Jill had chuckled nervously before nodding.

“Yeah, yes I am,” she’d said, smiling.

“Obviously,” dad had added. “We’ve been going to games together for the past seven or eight years,” he’d explained and Maggie grinned. [Baseball had always been their thing, and when they moved away, Maggie couldn’t find it in herself to continue playing without her dad watching her from the stands. She still went to games with him every time she visited, but that didn’t happen too often. She was glad he had someone who shared his love for the sport]. The conversation soon easily turned to baseball, and Jill was actively participating as much as her dad, the two of them constantly touching, though it didn’t seem forced. [Lizzie was clearly slightly peeved by the obvious displays of affection, but Maggie thought it was sweet]. Lizzie had then complained that the conversation was turning into one about baseball yet again, and both dad and Jill had laughed before dad turned the conversation to books, something both her and Lizzie loved, though Maggie was nowhere near the avid reader Lizzie was. Jill made a few comments here and there, though they were mostly to tease her dad and Maggie loved seeing him so relaxed and at ease as he mock-glared at Jill. [Of course, her dad was usually relaxed and easy-going around her and Lizzie, but this was different. _A good different,_ Maggie decided]. At one point though, Jill had excused herself on account of having a case to work on. [Maggie was pretty sure the actual reason was to let them have their time with their dad].

“It was nice meeting you, girls,” she’d said, smiling at them.

“Nice meeting you!” they’d said cheerily.

“Okay, girls?” dad had seemed nervous, but Maggie didn’t care.

“Yes, dad. She seems really nice,” she smiled at him. “She’s a Yankees fan,” she’d added and dad had laughed.

“That is a plus,” he smirked.

“Is she a lawyer?” Lizzie had piped up.

“Yes, Lizbug,” he’d nodded. [Suddenly, Maggie understood why her mom wasn’t a fan].

“Cool,” they’d said with a shrug before the conversation turned to school, Lizzie’s swimming, Maggie’s track team and holiday plans.

After that, Jill would always stay for the start of their weekly FaceTime date with dad, though she would usually just say hello and ask them how they were. They’d talk for a few minutes before Jill would excuse herself to work, pressing a quick kiss to dad’s cheek.

Maggie was starting to notice that dad was happy, really happy, during those months and that was enough for Maggie. Lizzie, for her part, didn’t think much of it, but she said she was happy for dad. [Though Maggie was barely two and a half years older than Lizzie, Maggie had seen her parents’ marriage implode, had been mature enough to understand what was happening and was all too happy to keep Lizzie away from it].

They spent Christmas and New Years with mom at their grandparents’ house. Christmas was highlighted by cookies, watching Home Alone and several other Christmas-themed movies with their cousins and opening presents on Christmas morning, including from dad and Jill. [Dad had gotten her a pair of tennis shoes she’d been wanting for a while and Jill had gotten her a Yankees t-shirt, and Maggie had smiled and texted back a thank you message to both of them. Lizzie’s presents had been a new set of paint, sketchbooks and oil pastels from dad and a book from Jill]. New Years is more fun, as the adults have a party while Maggie and her other cousins close to her age go to party at the small cabin on the other side of her grandparents’ property while Lizzie’s group stay at their aunt’s house.

It is also during this holiday that Maggie accidentally overhears her mom, grandma and aunt talk about Jill in a way that isn’t particularly kind while having tea in the kitchen. Unexplainably, it makes Maggie upset because from what she’d seen of Jill, the other woman was always pleasant, and kind, and funny. And, dad was really happy, so Maggie liked Jill for that. She hadn’t seen her dad happy like that in a long time and she was pretty sure it was all thanks to Jill. She also knew, or was at least, 99% sure that he hadn’t moved on after her mom and hadn’t seen anyone. Maggie had seen her mom rebound with other men after the divorce while her dad was in New York, still beating himself up about the entire thing.

For spring break, Maggie wants to see dad, and it’s his turn anyways. She’d just come home from track practice when she’d heard her mom argue with her dad and she’d let out an annoyed sigh before going upstairs to her room. During their weekly FaceTime call, her dad had broached the subject of spring break, and Lizzie had immediately suggested California. [Usually, dad took them somewhere on a vacation for spring break, and they would spend a week with him]. Maggie brings up New York, then immediately kicks herself because she realizes that going to New York means staying with dad, which now also means staying with Jill. But, then, dad brings up New York, too, and they agree if Jill is good with it. [She is, of course, their dad informs them the next day].

Which is what leads them to this, as Maggie follows after Lizzie and mom as they get off the plane at LaGuardia Airport. Dad is waiting for them, and Maggie jumps into his arms as soon as she sees him.

“Magpie!” he greets her, using the old childhood nickname she loves to hate.

“Dad, please, don’t,” she groans dramatically as he sets her back down.

“Embarrassed?” he quips, grinning, his eyes crinkling and she blushes furiously. “It’s my job as your dad to embarrass you,” he adds with a smirk.

“Thanks, dad,” she shoots back. “I’ve missed you,” she tells him, smiling.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he says just as Lizzie approaches them, a little more hesitant before wrapping her arms around dad, who returns the embrace.

“Hi, dad,” her sister greets, beaming.

“Hey, Lizbug,” he grins at her. “Had a good flight?” he asks and Lizzie nods. “I’ve missed both of my girls,” he says, wrapping an arm around both of them just as mom arrives.

“Roger,” mom greets, her tone none too pleasant.

“Renée,” dad greets, forcing a smile. “What are you doing here?” he asks curiously as he helps them with their bags. Maggie exchanges a look with Lizzie.

“Don’t worry, I’m not ruining your father-daughters time. I have a retreat and my connecting flight is through New York,” mom smiles at dad, who nods.

“Great.”

“Great,” she smirks. At one point, their dad falls into step with mom, and Maggie can only hear hushed whispers, but she hears Jill being mentioned and notices the stiff look her dad has.

Mom hugs them tightly, promising to see them in ten days, exchanges a stiff, awkward cheek kiss with dad, and then she’s gone, running through the airport in her six inch heels. Dad rejoins her and Lizzie, smiling.

“Jill’s still at work, but I thought we could go have lunch? She’ll join us for dinner,” he explains Jill’s absence and the two of them nod.

They drop their bags at dad’s – and Jill’s – apartment before venturing out for lunch. Lunch is nice, then dad takes them out for dessert, followed by walking around through Times Square and a trip to the bookstore.

They’re tired, so dad decides to have a night in. He cooks pasta with sauce while she and Lizzie settle in, and a harried-looking Jill arrives around seven, carrying a box of pastries. Her dad and Jill debate donuts for a bit in the kitchen, and Maggie smiles fondly until Lizzie tells her not to eavesdrop. Dinner is nice and fun, and Jill is a lot more fun and more relaxed in person. While dad and Lizzie talk about books, she and Jill talk about the Yankees. After dinner, dad reveals that he’d bought tickets to a Yankees game for the following Friday, causing Lizzie to groan dramatically.

“Oh, c’mon, Liz, it’ll be fun,” dad says and Maggie shoots Lizzie a look.

“You’re outnumbered here,” she adds with a smirk and Lizzie nods.

“I’ll endure it,” she quips and Jill chuckles.

Maggie runs every morning, so she asks her dad if there’s somewhere she can go for a jog in the morning. Despite initially being skeptical, he agrees and tells her there’s a park nearby.

The next morning, she comes back from her jog, sweaty and exhilarated to find her dad making breakfast. Lizzie is, as usual, asleep, and Jill is nowhere in sight.

“Running in New York… it’s different,” she tells him breathlessly as she grabs a glass of water.

“Yes, it is,” he grins as he makes coffee. “Not that I would know,” he quips. Maggie laughs.

“Jill not up yet?” she wonders casually.

“She stayed up till late last night working on a case. Besides, it’s Saturday, and she usually sleeps in on Saturdays,” he explains and she nods.

“I think she’s great,” Maggie blurts out and she sees her dad set the pan back on the stove before facing her.

“Yeah?” She nods. “I think she’s great, too,” he agrees, smirking. [It’s obvious her dad thinks Jill is more than great, but Maggie won’t call him out on it]. Instead, she just smiles at him.

“I’m gonna go shower,” she says as she makes her way to the room she shares with Lizzie, grabbing her things before going to the bathroom. The shower is relaxing, and Maggie lets herself enjoy it for a few minutes longer before emerging, her hair only half-dried, swept over her shoulder.

She’s helping her dad set the table when Jill walks in wearing her pajamas and greets dad with a quick peck on the lips before realizing Maggie was there, too. She blushes as she grabs a mug and pours a copious amount of coffee in it.

“Good morning,” Jill greets her with a smile.

“Morning,” Maggie greets back. The atmosphere is relaxed, and Maggie watches amused as Jill teases her dad over his kale and raw eggs smoothie and his obsession with Rocky. [Maggie likes the movie, but her dad’s love for it is on a whole other level. Jill seems to agree]. Lizzie enters a few minutes later, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” dad greets her, ruffling her hair.

“Mornin’,” Lizzie replies, her words muffled as she takes a seat at the kitchen island.

Breakfast is fun and relaxed, and Maggie enjoys it because it’s never like this back home. Back home, even during the weekend, breakfast is grabbing some granola or a sandwich and sitting at the table, half-working or reading something. Maggie usually eats fruit for breakfast at home after a run, and sometimes she eats it with mom, but most of the time mom is out of the house by the time Maggie comes back from her morning jog. [Mom used to be more involved with her and Lizzie, but as Maggie got older, mom left the two of them on their own most of the time].

Here, dad and Jill tease each other endlessly over their choice of food and she and Lizzie help themselves to heaps of pancakes while listening intently to Jill and dad. They talk about school and about Maggie’s plans for college, and Maggie admits she was considering NYU, and Lizzie’s swim meets. It’s family time, unlike anything Maggie had ever experienced, and Maggie loves it. She can see Lizzie does, too.

They decide to go sightseeing during the weekend, so after breakfast they set out and visit Times Square, Toys R Us, another bookstore before going out for lunch – hot dogs on the steps of Times Square. Jill window-shops as they walk around and Maggie watches as her dad tries to get his girlfriend to actually go try something on. It turns into an entire argument, and Maggie’s fascinated to watch them argue like lawyers before Jill gives in and goes inside a small store with her dad while her and Lizzie go for coffee at a nearby Starbucks.

“She’s really fun,” Lizzie admits as she grabs her kindle from her bag. Maggie nods.

“She is. And, dad is happy,” she adds.

“Yeah, he is,” Lizzie says, almost forlornly. [Maggie knows that Lizzie occasionally still dreamed of their family being reunited, of their parents getting back together, but Maggie knows the truth and she knows it’s better like this].

The two adults return minutes later, her dad looking smug as he holds a shopping bag while Jill just rolls her eyes.

They go out for dinner, a burger place that serves amazing burgers according to dad, and dinner is just as fun as the rest of her day had been, and they return home exhausted. Lizzie crashes immediately, but Maggie asks shyly if she can have some tea, and Jill asks her if she wants to watch SportCenter with them [She does, so she settles on the other end of the couch, steaming cup of tea between her hands, her dad in the middle of the couch while Jill curls herself into her dad’s side]. Eventually, Maggie’s finished with her tea by the third inning of the baseball game they were watching, and she presses a kiss to her dad’s cheek before washing the cup and making her way to the bedroom while her dad and Jill continue to watch.

The next day is mostly spent at home, though she does go for her usual morning jog. She comes back to find Jill in the living room, working.

“Good run?” she asks her, pausing to look up at her.

“Yeah,” Maggie smiles before gulping down a glass of water.

“That’s good,” she nods, taking a sip of her coffee. Maggie perches herself on the barstool.

“So, you’re a lawyer?” she wonders.

“Yes, well, I’m a Federal Public Defender, but lawyer is another term I’d use,” she smiles and shuts her laptop, turning to face her.

“Did you- do you and dad work together?” she asks, biting her lip nervously because she’s not sure she should be asking this question.

“Well, in a sense we used to, I guess. Your dad used to be the Chief of the Criminal Division of the U.S. Attorney’s Office. I’m the head of the Federal Public Defender’s Office. When I say we used to work together, it was usually against each other,” Jill explains, and Maggie nods. Jill seems to hesitate, and Maggie wonders if she’d crossed some invisible line, but she didn’t really know much about their relationship. Here and there, she would hear a comment made by her mom, but not much. “Our relationship was unethical. It was- if some client at my office found out, it would have been very bad,” she finally tells her. “Or, well, if your dad’s boss found out, that would’ve been bad too,” she adds as an afterthought.

“Lucky you I gave up my job to be with you,” her dad says as he walks into the kitchen and living room area, rounding the kitchen island to exchange a quick kiss with Jill.

“Yes, well, lucky me,” Jill jokes, grinning.

“Wait, what do you mean you gave up your job for her?” Maggie blurts out, suddenly feeling like she didn’t know anything.

“Your mom didn’t tell you?” her dad quips and she shakes her head. “Well,” her dad starts before telling her about this case that made his now-former boss’ boss’ boss unhappy and how his boss would’ve had to resign, but he decided to quit himself so he could be with Jill. [Maggie has to admit it’s extremely romantic, but she supposes that her dad wouldn’t have wanted to stay in a job if it meant losing the person he loves].

“That’s actually really romantic,” she says, smiling at the two of them.

“I still can’t believe you did that,” Jill quips, though it’s clearly directed at her dad.

“But I did,” her dad shrugs, and out of the corner of her eye, Maggie sees him wrap his arm around Jill’s waist. “Admit you love me for it,” he quips and Jill chuckles.

“That I do,” she says before leaning up to kiss him. Feeling like an intruder, Maggie decides to go shower and she rushes out of the room, leaving her dad and Jill there.

Sunday ends up being a lazy day, but they do go to the cinema in the evening, and Maggie watches as Jill coaxes her dad to the middle of the row despite his relentlessness in sitting on the aisle. At one point, dad and Lizzie end up in a bookstore yet again, so Jill suggests the two of them go find a café to kill time. They spend the time talking about the Yankees and colleges.

Dad had taken the next few days off, so they spend Monday and Tuesday with him, seeing Jill only at dinner. He’d taken Wednesday off, too, but he gets called into the office after lunch, so Jill takes them to her office. _It’s more relaxed,_ she explains with a good-natured eyeroll. Lizzie spends the day reading while Maggie herself hangs out with a nice woman named Sandra, who shows her some of the things she does. Jill serves donuts and pastries at the office, so she and Lizzie indulge in the sweets they’re usually denied. Jill also takes them to the courthouse when she has a hearing, and drops them off with Tina, the courthouse clerk, who has board games. She and Lizzie play Clue. Maggie beats her.

Unfortunately, dad gets called to the office Thursday morning, so half of Thursday is spent much like Wednesday, with the exception of a quick visit to NYU’s campus and a bookstore café. And, donuts. Maggie would take hanging around in Jill’s office for the donuts any day. They have lunch with dad, then Jill goes back to the office and they spend the day with dad. They have takeout Chinese for dinner and watch a movie before they all go to bed. At one point, though, Maggie wakes up somewhere after 0300, and stumbles into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, but freezes in the doorway, and takes a step back. Standing by the kitchen sink are her dad and Jill, and her dad’s tall frame is practically draped over Jill, who is hugging him tightly, her hands rubbing along his back in a comforting manner.

“Shh,” she hears Jill say softly as her dad takes a shaky breath. “Shh.” Maggie steps back immediately and turns around, returning to her room. [A part of her doesn’t want to disturb their moment, and another part knows that her dad wouldn’t want her to see him like this]. Lizzie is awake when she attempts to tiptoe back into the room.

“You okay?” Lizzie asks, turning on her nightlight.

“Yeah, I was just gonna get some water,” she shrugs, which isn’t technically a lie. Lizzie glances at her empty hand, unimpressed.

“And?”

“Never mind,” she sighs as she crawls into bed beside her sister.

“Oh,” Lizzie smirks. “Dad and Jill?”

“Lizzie!” Maggie hisses, shoving her sister playfully. “Let’s go back to bed,” she mumbles against pillow and turns on her side.

“Maggie?” she hears her sister whisper, so she turns to face her.

“Hmm?”

“Dad seems really happy with Jill,” Lizzie admits, and Maggie’s attention perks up.

“He does,” she agrees. “He is.”

“I don’t remember much from when dad and mom were still together,” her sister says carefully, “but I don’t think he was ever this happy with mom. Or, he wasn’t happy like this.”

“Yeah,” she sighs in response. “I think they were happy before we were born,” she whispers. “They seemed happy in their wedding photos,” she adds.

“Yeah. I think I finally realized that dad is happy with Jill and that all that time I kept hoping for mom and dad to get back together…” Lizzie trails off, staring up at the ceiling, and Maggie nuzzles closer to her sister.

“Hey, Liz, I get it. I hoped for it, too, but I also saw how bad things were during the divorce, so I learned not to hold out too much hope. It’s okay to hope for things, but he is happy now, with Jill, and Jill is really nice and funny, so I’m okay with it. Do I miss the time when we all used to live together in Westchester? Yes. But, this is better,” Maggie tells her sister, turning to face her. Lizzie turns her hand to meet her gaze.

“You’re right. I guess I just didn’t want her to come first to him or replace mom for us,” Lizzie says sadly, and instinctively, Maggie wraps her arms around her little sister.

“Oh, Lizzie,” Maggie says, rubbing her hand against Lizzie’s back. “Oh, Lizzie,” she repeats. “That’s- that’s not true,” she tells her and she can feel Lizzie nod against her shoulder. They hold onto each other like that for a while until they fall asleep.

She wakes up the next morning, Lizzie’s arms still wrapped around her, her petite body pressed against hers. Gently, she untangles Lizzie’s arms from around her body and slowly gets up from the bed, quietly putting on her running gear and slowly tiptoeing out of the room. She washes her face and brushes her teeth in the bathroom before putting on her running shoes quietly. Maggie loves running. Not like she once loved baseball and playing in Westchester’s Little League team, but she loves running because she can usually get out of her head, zone out and just do something physical, her body moving in a rhythm, her heart thumping rapidly against her chest. She likes coming back breathless and panting, making a run for the shower. But, today, she can’t get out of her head, not after the past week, not after seeing her dad and Jill in the kitchen the night before, not after the conversation with Lizzie. So, she ends up tripping over her own feet and falling almost face-first on the concrete. Thankfully, she manages to not sprawl on the concrete like a fool, and she quickly gathers herself before limping slightly back home. When she enters, she finds Jill in the kitchen, a cup of coffee beside her as she works on her laptop. Normally, Maggie would just walk in and grab one of the bottles of water her dad now keeps in the fridge, but she hesitates.

“Back from that run?” Jill asks, not quite looking up from her computer.

“Y- yeah,” Maggie stutters out as she kicks off her running shoes.

“You okay?” This time Jill does look up and Maggie winces at the horrified look on the older woman’s face. “Maggie, what happened?”

“I, uh, I tripped. I was too in my head,” she explains with a shrug.

“Oh. Well, come here so I can clean you up,” Jill gestures for her and shuts her laptop. Slowly, Maggie makes her way into the kitchen and perches herself on one of the barstools. “I’ll be right back,” Jill says before going to the master bedroom, and returning with a first aid kit. Maggie sits patiently as Jill cleans the scrapes and applies antibiotic ointment to the wounds before sticking on Band-Aids.

“Thanks,” she smiles at the older woman.

“Good morn- Maggie, what happened?” Maggie turns to find her dad looking concerned as he enters the kitchen, immediately rushing to her side.

“I’m fine, dad,” she waves him off.

“What happened?” he presses, taking a seat beside her and reaching for Jill’s cup of coffee.

“I tripped while running,” she explains, slightly embarrassed, and her dad pats her back.

“Well, you should be more careful,” he tells her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “These are nasty,” he eyes the scrapes on her knees. [Normally, Maggie would’ve taken care of scrapes herself, but she liked that Jill was taking care of her. And, there was the more practical side that she couldn’t reach some of them].

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” she says. “I’m okay, dad, really,” she forces a smile, though it comes more as a grimace.

“Is there anywhere else you’re hurt?” Jill asks, grabbing her attention, and she notices that the scrapes on her legs were all patched up as were the ones on her elbows. She shakes her head and hops down from the barstool, but immediately hisses in pain and her dad stops her, pushing her back onto the chair.

“Easy there,” he shoots her a concerned look and she sighs as she lifts up the hem of her tank top to reveal a nasty scrape along her rib. “Yikes. How did you manage to hurt yourself like that?” her dad asks with a chuckle before gently patting her shoulder.

“I told you, I tripped,” she says with a groan. “I was thinking a lot and I wasn’t careful,” she adds, blushing furiously.

“Well,” her dad tells her with an amused chuckle, “try not to think too much next time you run,” he pats her back gently before going around the kitchen island to get started on breakfast as Jill finishes patching her up.

“Well, at least you didn’t hit your head,” Jill tells her kindly, stepping away once she’s done as Maggie drops her t-shirt.

"Thanks, Jill," Maggie tells her with a smile. 

“I’m kind of surprised you didn’t do that,” Lizzie pipes up as she enters the kitchen. “Yikes, this is your worst one yet,” her sister adds before going around to hug dad.

“Lizzie!” Maggie shoots.

Dad makes Denver omelets for breakfast, and Maggie and Lizzie watch amused as dad and Jill debate the difference between a Denver and a western omelet.

Both dad and Jill had taken the day off, so after breakfast they go out to sightsee and do some shopping before going for lunch to a small diner-style restaurant.

The game is amazing, and Maggie isn’t sure who is loudest between her, and Jill, and her dad as Lizzie just hangs back, watching them amused while clapping and occasionally cheering when appropriate. They eat hot dogs and drink coke, and the Yankee’s win 5-3 in the bottom of the fifth. It’s one of the best games Maggie had seen and as they leave, her dad wraps an arm around her.

“That was amazing!” she beams at him as Jill comes to his other side.

“It was!” He looks genuinely happy, and Maggie is so glad she’d come to New York, and she’d missed this so much. When she was younger, her dad always took her to baseball games since her mom didn’t really watch any sports, occasionally preferring football, and Lizzie preferred to get lost in a book or paint. Everything she knew about baseball, she’d learned from her dad. Baseball had always been their special thing. But, as she watches him wrap his other arm around Jill and listens intently to the two of them discuss, she thinks it could be a family thing.

When they get back, she’s exhausted, so she collapses in bed along with Lizzie.

The weekend passes by in a blur, and Maggie finds herself awake at 0200 on Sunday night. When she finally resolves that sleep won’t come, she decides to abandon any pretense of sleep and stumbles groggily out of the bedroom and into the living room. Her dad is alone, watching SportsCenter, so Maggie grabs a glass of water and curls herself into his side like she used to when she was a kid.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks, letting her use his shoulder as a pillow. She shakes her head. “You okay, Mags?” he asks gently, glancing down at her in concern.

“I miss you,” she admits.

“I miss you, too, Maggie. All the time,” he says softly.

“This was great. Best vacation ever,” she declares with a smile.

“I’m glad,” he grins. “So, you like Jill?”

“Yes! Jill is great, dad,” she smiles at him and he smiles back, and he wraps his arm tighter around her.

“I’m glad you think so. I think she’s great, too.”

“You’re happy, dad. Really happy in a way I’ve never seen you which makes me happy. Lizzie, too, I’m sure,” she says sincerely before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Oh, Maggie, I’m glad. That’s what matters to me most. That you and your sister are happy. And, Jill does make me happy. Incredibly so. I haven’t been this happy in a long time,” he smiles, a real genuine smile, and Maggie can’t help but smile back. SportsCenter continues to buzz in the background, but neither of them is really watching.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“I quit playing because you weren’t there to watch me play,” she finally admits, after so many years of keeping it to herself.

“What, Maggie? Why? You should have-” he starts to say, confused and definitely not angry, but she cuts him off.

“Baseball was always our thing. I didn’t know that last night you came to watch me after work would be the last night, that it would be the last time you’d take me for ice-cream after practice. I couldn’t imagine playing baseball without you to cheer me on,” she says, and her dad doesn’t say anything for a second before he wraps his arms around her, pulling her against his chest like he used to when she was a kid.

“Oh, Maggie. Oh, Maggie, I’m so sorry,” he whispers soothingly, rubbing his hands against her back.

“Don’t be,” she mumbles, muffled against his chest. “It’s okay.”

They stay like that, hugging, and eventually let go what seems like hours, but is only minutes later.

“Goodnight, dad. I love you,” she tells him as she gets up to go back to the room she’d shared with Lizzie the past week.

“Night, Maggie. I love you, too,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

* * *

Jill watches Roger as the girls shuffle through the security line, his gaze forlorn.

“Are you okay?” she asks gently, lacing her fingers with his.

“Yes. Yes, I am. I have you,” he says and she blushes at how cheesy he’s being as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“This was a great week, wasn’t it?” she asks, not quite sure how to lead into what she’s about to tell him.

“Yes. Yes, it was. Thank you for being so wonderful,” he says, smiling at her as Maggie and Lizzie wave one last time before disappearing. The two of them turn back, and start walking to the exit.

“Maggie and Lizzie are really nice!” she tells him as they continue walking, her mind racing.

“I, um, I liked you this week. Actually, I loved you this week,” she blurts out nervously.

“Oh? I’m a little hurt you only loved me this week,” he says, frowning slightly, but she hits him in the shoulder playfully.

“I love you every week! Don’t be dramatic,” she tells him. “But, I fell in love with you in a different way this week. You’re an amazing dad, and completely different from what you’re like at work or anywhere else. And, this isn’t me asking or telling you to do it, but for the first time since… well, forever really, I’ve pictured my future. With you. I want a future with you Roger,” she confesses, their fingers laced together as she stares deeply into his eyes. She hesitates, and Roger manages to say something, a thousand emotions evident in his eyes.

“Jill, are you- are you proposing?” he asks, his voice hesitant and soft.

“No. But, I am telling you that I would say yes to you,” she says and she sees realization dawn on his face before he wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. She hugs him back, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck as he buries his head in her hair. They pull away, both of them staring deeply into each other’s eyes, his hands cupping her cheeks ever so gently, and then he presses his lips to hers. And, Jill kisses him back, her lips molding with his, her hands wrapping around his neck as their noses brush.


	4. Blast from the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jill and Roger try to go on dates, but run into their exes which ends up bringing them closer
> 
> Or, the one in which Jill is jealous and Tina plays relationship guru, and Roger finds out what happened with Cliff

She strides over to him, her slightly wavy hair falling in tangles over her shoulders, her heart beating erratically in her chest from practically running from the office. [Roger had been asking her to go out for a nice dinner for weeks, and they’d finally agreed on a date, but she’d gotten slammed with a case in the middle of the day and she’d left the office later than usual].

“Hi,” she greets, stepping closer to him and she can see his expression light up as he stands up a little straighter, a fond smile making its way over his features.

“Hi,” he grins, reaching to pull her closer, his hands firm on her waist, before firmly pressing a kiss to her lips. She smiles into the kiss and rests her hands on his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck as she deepens the kiss. His hands rest firmly on her waist, pulling her closer, as his teeth gently nip at her lower lip. When they pull away, he gazes fondly into her eyes, his eyes a warm blue as he brings up one hand to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing gently along her jaw. “You look beautiful,” he says softly, his voice husky, his face inches from hers.

“I do not,” she retorts with a sigh. “Sorry I’m late. I got slapped with this crazy case mid-afternoon and then got Gallatin on the Wheel,” she rolls her eyes before glancing back at Roger.

“Do you want to head home? We can cancel the reservation and order Chinese takeout if you’re too tired,” he suggests and Jill is touched that he’s willing to do this. [In all honesty, she would very much like that, but she knows that he’d been looking forward to this for weeks, so she swallows back her exhaustion].

“No, we’re good. I’m fine, Judge Gallatin is a pain in the ass every day and we both have crazy schedules, there is no point in trying to reschedule,” she tells him, patting his arm gently.

“Okay,” he smiles. “Shall we?” he asks, offering his hand to her, and she smiles gratefully, nodding as she loops her arm through his.  

It’s a small, secluded Italian restaurant with a cozy little terrace masked by a curtain of fairy lights. She smiles as he guides her inside, casually giving the waiter his name, his eyes still firmly trained on her. He helps her with her coat, and Jill stomach churns with excitement as Roger gives her a once-over, his gaze travelling lazily over her dark blue suit she’d paired with a cream blouse, the skirt reaching just below her knees. The waiter takes them to a sheltered area of the restaurant, and Roger pulls the chair for her before taking a seat himself, his warm gaze meeting hers again.

“What?” she asks breathlessly.

“You look lovely,” he says with a smirk.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to flatter me,” she shrugs. “I haven’t stopped to take a breather all day,” she tells him. He nods. “What about you? What did you do today?” she asks, changing the subject.

“I won a case, of course,” he smirks and she rolls her eyes. _Of course he did._ “Granted, it was a stupid fraud case, but well…” he trails off with a smirk and she purses her lips. “Don’t worry, this was the CEO of a small business,” he says quickly and she scoffs.

They order their drinks – wine – and chat casually about work as they leaf through the menu. The waiter brings their drinks, and they smile as they clink their glasses before the waiter returns for their food order. Roger orders the spaghetti with seafood while she picks a lasagna Bolognese.

The subject switches to baseball and Jill sits back as Roger dives deep into a story about Maggie, his demeanor fully relaxed, blue eyes sparkling with delight.

“Where is she now?” she asks, leaning slightly forward.

“Naples,” he says, fishing out his phone to show her a picture of three smiling girls in front of a very large pizza.

“How nice. I remember when I took a year off to go travelling right after college,” she tells him with a somewhat impish grin and he rolls his eyes.

“I know, I know, this is what she wanted. She’s happy,” he says defensively.

[Maggie had eventually decided to skip starting college in favor of taking a year off and travelling with two of her friends. They were obsessed with the movie _Eat, Pray, Love_ and wanted to do the same – Italy, India and Indonesia, though their goal was less about finding themselves and more about having fun. Roger hadn’t been too thrilled about it, but he’d eventually given in after much coaxing form her and his eldest daughter who had him wrapped around her finger].

“And, Lizzie? How’s the college search going for her?” she asks. Roger’s youngest daughter was a sophomore in high school, but her college search had already started.

“She’s got it down to twenty,” he says with smile.

“Well, that’s down from fifty,” she quips and he groans. The conversation easily drifts to college and Jill’s own mind wonders back.

“Remembering better days?” he asks, snapping her out of her reverie. He wiggles his eyebrows, giving her a teasing, sideways look.

“Hmm, I don’t know if they were better. I like my life now,” she smiles fondly at him. “But, college was fun.”

“Sorority?” he asks, leaning forward, his gaze holding hers firmly.

She blushes, looking down, “yes. Kappa kappa theta,” she shrugs. “I did debate club, too,” she grins at him. “You?”

“If you’re asking me if I joined a fraternity,” he pauses, makes a face, “God, no. I played a few sports. Debate club, of course.”

“Where did you go to college again?” she asks and Roger grins. [She thinks that he may have told her ages ago, but she can’t remember in this particular moment].

“Columbia. Political Sciences with a minor in International Relations,” Jill smirks because it isn’t unexpected. [She likes getting to know Roger. Likes it when they get to know each other on this entirely basic level even though they’d known each other for so long. But, most of that time they were adversaries who went to games together and didn’t talk about their personal lives]. “You?”

She’s about to answer when she hears someone – a woman – call out, “Roger?” and she turns to find a tall brunette wearing an expensive-looking dress paired with a pair of black six inch Louboutin’s walking towards them. It takes a second for Jill to realize who the woman is; she looks different from the last time Jill had seen her.

Roger stiffens and turns as well, his expression neutral and practically unreadable, except she knows exactly what he’s feeling from the look in his eyes that he thinks he hides too well and she brushes her leg against his, flashing him a comforting smile.

“Renée,” he greets tersely, standing up to exchange a quick kiss on the cheek with the woman as she moves to stand up as well, though she’s not sure she should be. [Of all the things, Jill certainly hadn’t expected to run into Roger’s ex-wife while on a date night with him]. “Um- Renée, this is Jill,” he gestures to her, his gaze immediately softened, and forces a pleasant smile as she stands up as well. They’re the same height, but Jill suddenly feels small and inadequate next to Renée’s gorgeous and enviable figure, the delicate material of her dress clinging perfectly to her curves and her toned abdomen. Next to her, Jill suddenly feels entirely out of place. [She’s wearing a suit with a blouse that she’d gotten on a 60% off sale at Macy’s a few years ago, her feet aching from wearing heels all days since she’d spent most of the day in court]. “Jill,” he gestures to her and she wishes she was beside him, that she could feel his reassuring hand on her back, “this is Renée, my ex-wife,” he says and Jill forces a smile as Renée beams at them.

“It’s so good to finally meet you,” Renée says, looking directly into her eyes, and Jill nods.

“It’s good to meet you, too,” she smiles, though a lot more reserved. [If Jill had ever expected to meet Renée, she had definitely not expected her to be so pleasant while looking like she did]. Technically, they’d met a while ago, since Roger had still been married when she’d started working for the Southern District, but back then, Jill didn’t really socialize much with the so-called enemy, and she’d just generally been avoiding any form of socializing after the firm, after Cliff. She recalls running into the then-AUSA and his wife at some event, but she’s almost certain they didn’t linger much in each other’s company back then.

“I heard you and Roger met at work?” Renée asks, smiling all too pleasantly.

“Yeah. Yes, we did. We’ve both been working in the Southern District for about twenty years,” she says, smiling nervously.

“Oh, yes, actually,” Renée says, her expression suddenly one of realization. “Now, I remember. Roger always used to complain about you every time he had to go against you in court.” Roger rolls his eyes as Jill flashes Renée a tense smile. “We met while Roger was in law school at Harvard and I was getting my Business degree there,” she smiles affectionately at Roger, who had been tense the entire time, and he softens immediately. [Jill hates the traitorous feeling of jealousy, but she can’t help it].

“What are you doing here, Renée?” Roger asks, breaking the slightly awkward silence that had settled, though his tone is curt and reserved. Jill smiles gratefully in his direction, but his gaze is trained on Renée.

“Well, I’m here for business. Lizzie’s with my sister. We’re going to tour colleges once I get back, I took a few days off,” Renée replies, glancing at Roger with mild disdain in her expression.

“Ah, well, let me know how that goes,” he says pleasantly, brushing her off.

“Of course. Well, we might drop by to look at schools in the area,” Renée flashes him a smile.

“Of course, that would be great!” he says more cheerfully and Renée nods.

“For sure. Well, I best get back to my client,” she smiles at both of them. “It was nice seeing you, Roger. You seem happy,” she leans to brush her bloody red lips against his cheek and Jill stiffens as Roger touches her arm gently.

“I’m sure it was,” he says sarcastically and they embrace slightly. [Jill can feel her blood boiling, but she forces herself to stand relaxed and smile sweetly at Renée].

“It was lovely meeting you, Jill,” Renée says, stepping forward to shake her hand. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” she smiles at her and Jill nods.

“Likewise,” she says stiffly, smiling back.

Renée glances behind her and steps back before adding, “well, I’m going now. You two enjoy the rest of your evening,” she says with a dazzling smile before walking away as the two of them sit down, a heavy silence settled between them as the waiter brings their food.

“Sorry about that,” Roger breaks the silence, his expression apologetic.

“Don’t worry about it,” she brushes him off as she starts to eat.

“Jill…” he starts to say, but she jumps in, steering the subject towards work, telling him about the new FPDs and how Sandra, Jay and Allison are getting better and better and handling more advanced cases now that they’re not babies. Roger tells her about the ADAs and interns at the D.A.’s office, sounding somewhat amused.

The rest of the evening is mostly pleasant and Jill lets herself relax slowly, leaning back as she listens to him telling her about the latest book he’d finished reading.

“I’ll be back,” she stands and notices Roger look up quizzically. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” she explains and he nods as she starts making her way towards the bathroom.

Unfortunately, the moment she exits the stall she wishes she hadn’t because standing in front of the mirror, retouching her makeup is Renée. But, Jill isn’t someone who hides, so she walks confidently towards the sinks. She exchanges a glance with the other woman as she washes her hands before looking more carefully into the mirror herself and gasps slightly at her image. She looks frazzled and tired, and her makeup is slightly smeared, her once-smooth hair hanging in tangles over her shoulders, her lips chapped. [She wonders, briefly, why she’d agreed to this, if maybe she should have just asked Roger to cancel the reservations and go home. _Perhaps, that’s why he suggested it,_ she thinks for a second, even though she knows he’s not like that]. She grabs the small, travel-sized hairbrush from her bag and quickly starts untangling her blonde hair.

Renée is still applying her makeup while furiously texting on the phone, and Jill can feel her stomach in knots in the tense, awkward atmosphere. Briefly, she considers saying something.

“I see what he sees in you, I guess,” Renée breaks the silence and Jill turns to her in surprise.

“Excuse me?” she asks, once she’d recovered from the brief shock.

“You know what I mean,” the other woman shrugs. “I mean, you work like he does, too,” she continues, and Jill imagines that she’s trying to sound nice, but the hint of condescension is clear in her voice. “I doubt you two ever argue because you waited in front of a restaurant for him for an hour.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jill snaps as she puts the hairbrush back in her bag before grabbing her mascara.

“Nothing, really. I guess you’re what he was always looking for. Someone who doesn’t fight for the relationship,” Renée says while applying her lipstick.

“That is not true,” Jill manages to say, recovering easily. “You don’t know the first thing about me or about my relationship with Roger,” she says, biting back an insult.

“No? It doesn’t take long to figure it out,” she says with a scoff, glancing at Jill, her expression full of disdain.

“You’re wrong,” Jill says simply, crossing her arms.

“Really? You’re not the first one, Jill. But, you know the difference between me and you and all the other women before you? I’m his ex- _wife_ , I’m the mother of his children. Roger’s flings don’t last long, but even though we’re divorced, I’m always there.” And, with that, Renée struts out of the bathroom and Jill finally breathes out a heavy sigh as she leans against the sink. She finishes reapplying her lip-gloss and sprays a little perfume before returning to Roger.

“You okay? You were in there for a while,” he asks concerned.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” she tries to smile at him, but she knows it’s forced.

“Do you want desert or do you want to get the bill and get back?”

“I’m good. Let’s just get the bill,” she tells him.

It’s colder outside than it was earlier, so she shuffles closer to him, seeking his warmth, and Roger wraps his arm around her shoulders.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” he murmurs softly in her ear as they walk towards a secluded part of Central Park, arms wrapped around each other. It’s rare that they She nods as he guides her towards a small bench and nuzzles into him once they sit down. “You and Renée didn’t have some sort of catfight in the bathroom?” he says sarcastically, not quite realizing the truth in what he’d said, but Jill stiffens. “Jill?”

There’s a pregnant pause before she finally answers, “there may have been a slight confrontation in the bathroom?”

“No!” he scoffs, incredulous, before realizing she was being serious. “What did she say?” he asks, immediately, pulling away to meet her gaze, his hand gently cupping her cheek. “Jill?” he asks when she looks away, hiding her face in his shoulder. “Jill, you know you can tell me, right?”

“She mentioned you had other flings?” she says hesitantly, though it sounds more like a question.

“Ah. Yes, I did,” he confirms, glancing down.

“Oh,” Jill deadpans, trying to mask that she’s a little taken aback.

“Yes, I had an affair. So did Renée for the record, if we’re counting,” he quips as Jill glances over at him. “She cheated on me first,” he admits, a faraway look in his eyes, and Jill’s breath hitches as she realizes the turn this conversation had taken. She reaches to lay her hand on his arm, her own gaze trained on the landscape in front of them. “And, well, the affair was more of a one-nightstand while we were going through the divorce,” he adds with a sigh.

“And, after the… divorce?” she asks hesitantly, part of her not wanting to know and part of her desperate for answers.

“Yes. After the divorce, too. Never lasted long. Why does it matter?” he furrows his brows, his thumb rubbing gently along her jaw. Jill sighs.

“Because she said I’m what you were looking for. Or, what she wasn’t. That I don’t put up a fight if you’re late from work,” she confesses, her voice trembling slightly. She sees the look of surprise on his face as he tilts her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“You’re not Renée, that is true,” he says softly. “And, I don’t know that you are what I was looking for. To be honest, I’m not sure I was looking for anyone,” he chuckles bitterly, glancing down. “But, you are exactly who I want, who I need, who I love,” he breathes out as he leans closer to her, resting his forehead against hers. [It always surprises Jill how Roger is so honest and open with his feelings with her, and it makes butterflies swarm in her stomach]. “Jill, why? Why does it matter what she said?”

“Because it does. Because she’s your ex-wife. Because she- she said all those things looking like she did,” she says, and she can feel her cheeks flush.

“Are you- are you jealous? Of Renée?” he scoffs. “Really, Jill?” She blushes, burying her face in his chest as he lays his head on her back. “Jill, why are you-”

“I’m not!” she snaps, pulling away to look up at him. “I’m not jealous. I’m not. It’s just that she’s the mother of your children, and I’m… I’m just…” she trails off, swallowing thickly.

“You’re just what? You’re you? Jill, those flings that Renée mentioned? They were just flings. They didn’t matter. I was- I was trying to move on,” he says vulnerably, his gaze trained on the ground.

“And me?” she whispers, her breath hitched and his gaze snaps back to meet hers, their faces inches from each other.

“You are more than a fling,” he says before brushing his lips against hers. Jill wants to object, to keep talking, but instead she kisses him back, wrapping her arm around his neck, her lips easily molding with his as she deepens the kiss. Roger’s hands wrap around her waist, pulling her closer as his hands explore her body, and she can feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material of her blouse as she nips gently at his lips, her palms pressed against his cheeks. And, despite the questions plaguing her mind and that traitorous feeling of jealousy, she lets herself drown in the feel of him, in the sensation of his body, in his warmth, her lips pressed against his. [She’d never thought she’d be kissing the man she loved on a bench in Central Park and Jill can’t help the excitement that bubbles within her]. 

When air becomes a necessity, they pull away breathless and panting, foreheads resting against each other, his arms still on her waist as her hands fall to his shoulder.

“I love you, Jill, you know that,” he states, his voice husky, barely above a whisper.

“I know,” she says sadly. “I love you, too.” She shivers and Roger pulls her closer before helping her up, his hand resting on the small of her back in a comforting manner. The walk back to their apartment is quiet, Jill’s mind miles away.

“Jill?” he asks once they’re inside as he helps her take her coat off while she slips off her shoes.

“Yeah?” she asks, briefly glancing over at him as she follows him into the kitchen.

While at first the apartment only had Roger’s things, Jill had moved a few decorations, appliances and her clothes in, merging their belongings in a kind of messy way since neither of them was into interior decorating. [Of course, she kept most of the junk food at her office as Roger’s kitchen was full of healthy foods and he hated it when she ate “the joys of life”]. He pours them both a glass of wine and takes a seat on the couch, resting against one of the throw pillows Jill had bought when she’d moved in. [Roger was a simple person and that was reflected all around the apartment, but she’d insisted on adding some color].

“Is there… something else Renée said?” he asks, a little nervously, almost bracing himself.

“Roger, it’s fine, just… just drop it,” she sighs heavily, taking a sip of her wine. “It doesn’t matter,” she shrugs.

“It matters that she upset you,” he says softly, glancing over at her.

“She didn’t upset me. I’m not upset, I’m fine,” she brushes him off.

“Really, Jill?” he scoffs, setting the mostly empty glass on the coffee table. “Look, I don’t know how many times or in what manner I have to tell you that you are not a fling for you to believe me,” he snaps, and she can see the anger clear in his eyes.

“Roger…”

“I’m going to bed,” he says tersely before standing up and grabbing the class to put it in the sink. Jill lets out a heavy sigh and sits back, turning on SportsCenter.

* * *

The next day, she’d just left a hearing when she runs into Tina.

“You don’t look good,” the older woman observes. “Was it that bad in there?”

“What?” she looks at Tina in confusion before she realizes what she’s asking. “That? Oh, no, that was just a bail hearing. Judge Barish, nothing out of the ordinary,” she shrugs. [She has to admit that she hadn’t fully paid attention to the bail hearing, only that it was within her client’s financial possibilities, her mind still replaying the events of the night before on repeat, like a broken record].

“Then why do you look like that?” her friend asks, and Jill looks towards Tina, whose gaze is narrowed.

“Like what?” she frowns, glancing at the older woman.

“Like someone- wait, did Roger do something?” Realization seems to dawn on Tina’s face.

“What? No, it’s not-” she cuts herself off once she sees the look in Tina’s eyes. “We had a fight,” she says with a sigh, and Tina nods before ushering her inside an empty courtroom. “Tina, honestly, I don’t-”

“Come on,” the Court Clerk motions for her to sit and Jill obliges, still slightly confused. “What happened?”

“WemetRenée,” she blurts, the words smashed together and she looks up as Tina gives her the iconic Tina look. “We ran into Renée yesterday,” she says more slowly. “It was… rather unpleasant,” she says with a scoff.

“Yuck. Never really liked the woman. She always used to act like she was better than everyone else. Wasn’t particularly nice either,” the other woman says sympathetically.

“She acted very pleasantly last night. Maybe too pleasantly,” she sighs. “And she looked… I’m not really jealous, but well, it was hard not to feel slightly insecure,” she confesses, looking over at Tina.

“Ah, I see,” the Court Clerk nods. “And why did you and Roger have an argument? Because you didn’t give in? Because you were ‘not jealous’?” Jill raises an eyebrow.

“I-” she starts to say, but Tina cuts her off.

“You were married before, right?” Jill bites back a retort and swallows thickly. “For a marriage to work- or, any relationship, really, there has to be compromise. A middle ground. A balance. You and Roger still need to find that balance,” she says gently and Jill nods.

“Not sure either of us know how,” she mutters sadly.

“It’s not an exact science, really. But, I know he’s the one who give in most of the time. Maybe, it’s time you do. And, I don’t’ mean give up control or whatever. I mean show him that this relationship matters, that he matters. Roger Gunn may have a very large ego, but when it comes to you he’s not always so sure,” Tina smiles at her as realization dawns on Jill. [The fight hadn’t been at all about jealousy or Renée, but instead it had been about the fact that he was always willing to make her feel better and tell her just how he felt about her, but she didn’t always reciprocate. If ever, really].

“I- I need to see him,” she says breathlessly as she stands up while Tina just grins smugly. “I should call him,” she adds, gathering her things.

“Good luck!” the clerk calls after her as she runs out of the courtroom, her mind spinning. A plan forms in her mind on her way to the office and she calls the restaurant to book a table for that evening before calling Roger.

“Hey,” he greets coldly, and Jill falters.

“Hey,” she says, trying to sound normal even though her stomach is in knots with nerves. “Are you working till late tonight?” she blurts out.

“Not planning on it, but maybe? I might try to get ahead of some work,” he says, and Jill can feel a pit in her stomach. She knows he might avoid her, but she hopes he’ll change his mind.

“Don’t,” she says softly. “I want to talk.”

“Jill… look, I didn’t want to fight last night, but can we please just… Look, just give me some time?”

“I’m sorry about last night,” she says instead. “I’d like to make it up to you?” It sounds more like a question.

“I’m sorry, too,” he says vulnerably, briefly letting his guard down, and Jill’s heart aches that she’d hurt him. Even through the phone she can hear the emotion in his voice. “Look, it’s probably a good idea if I try to get ahead of some work,” he explains. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Roger, please. Look, I know last night didn’t go how either of us hoped it would. Please let me make it up to you. Tonight?” she finally asks, hoping he’ll agree, though a part of her is scared he won’t. “Look, I get it if you want to work tonight, but I’d really like to have dinner with you. I understand though if you- you know what, this was just-” she cuts herself off nervously.

“Jill?”

“Yes?”

“Are you asking me out?” he asks amusedly and she can practically see the cocky smirk on his face, and her lips curl into a smile.

“So what if I am?” she flirts back, smiling.

“Then yes. I would love to have dinner with you,” he says and she smiles.

“That’s- that’s great! Meet me at seven o’clock at,” she rattles the address off cheerfully.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you there,” he says, and she can see the smile on his face.

“Yes, see you,” she agrees before hanging up.

She rummages through the small wardrobe in her office but doesn’t find anything, so she decides to do some shopping, going to a store she usually window shops in, but this time deciding to go inside. She does have some savings, and while she usually is very careful with her clothes’ budget, she decides to make an exception for tonight. She settles on a knee-length dark burgundy dress that clings to her figure, accentuating her curves with a simple sweetheart neckline and short sleeves.

She gets ready in her office, pairing the dress with a pair of nice black heels she kept in her office wardrobe for special occasions before applying her makeup in the bathroom. Her watch reads that it’s still early, and she paces nervously in her office before deciding to make her way to the restaurant. Not surprisingly, Roger is already there, and her breath hitches when she sees him, her stomach suddenly swarming with butterflies.

He’s wearing her favorite light blue shirt with a dark blue suit and no tie and Jill can’t help but let her gaze drift lazily over him, giving him a once-over as she strides over to him.

She smirks, because Roger’s doing the exact same thing, and Jill can see the delighted look in his eyes as his gaze lingers over her longer than necessary.

“Hi,” she breathes out, suddenly overcome with nerves.

“Hi,” he smiles at her. “You look beautiful,” he tells her, smiling fondly at her.

“Thanks. You clean up nicely, too,” she smirks at him, gazing deeply into his eyes. [He cleans up more than nicely, but Jill’s not about to feed into his ego]. He grins teasingly at her and she smiles.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering her his arms and she smiles, feeling her cheeks flush.

“We shall,” she smirks and they start walking towards the small Greek restaurant.

“You look stunning,” he whispers in her ear, a little breathlessly, his eyes slightly darkened with lust. She smirks, pleased.

“Thank you,” she smiles shyly, fully melting under his gaze before recovering. “What are you hoping to get out of all this sweet-talking, mister?” she quirks an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles.

“Hmm,” he hesitates, seemingly pondering it for a second, “I might have some ideas,” he smirks and she chuckles.

“Nice try,” she quirks an eyebrow as the waiter guides them to their table and Roger helps her with her coat.

Dinner is pleasant, and Jill finally allows herself to relax and enjoy their time together, baseball anecdotes mixed with stories about Roger’s daughters or some new book he’s read recently. Several times she catches his gaze lingering a little longer on her cleavage, and she blushes, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder. [Of course, she checks him out, too, but she tries to be more discreet].

After dinner, they start walking slowly, their fingers laced together as Jill leads him towards a small, secluded park. Roger follows her wordlessly and sits down beside her, scooting closer to her.

“Jill,” he pauses carefully, unsure of how to continue, “what is going on?” he asks and she lifts her gaze to meet his.

She’d prepared what she’d say to him, had rehearsed it on her way to the restaurant, but sitting there, her eyes locked with his, she forgets about it all.

“I love you,” she blurts, reaching to grasp his hand.

“I love you, too,” he says simply, though she can see he’d been a little taken aback.

“I know- I know I acted weird after meeting Renée, and I admit it was weird and I was jealous and insecure, but I just-” she pauses, taking a deep breath to gather her thoughts as Roger squeezes her hands, turned to face her, his gaze full of concern. “I know I don’t really talk about my feelings. I know that. But, you have to know that I’ve never felt about anyone like I feel about you. And, last night was hard because she was all gorgeous, and I just-” she’s cut off by Roger, suddenly leaning in to crash his lips against hers. She responds immediately, her hands flying up to wrap around his neck as he wraps his arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. The kiss is passionate, full of pent up emotions, urgent and demanding, his hands drifting hastily over the thin material of her dress as she tugs him closer, her teeth nipping gently at his lips. When air becomes a necessity, they pull away, foreheads resting against each other.

“Jill…” Roger drawls slowly, reaching to rub his thumb gently along her jaw.

“Yes…” she breathes out against his lips, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you. I told you, you are more than a fling. And, you are more than Renée ever was,” he finally says, his own voice hoarse and thick with emotion.

“Roger…” she trails off, hesitating slightly before continuing, “I love you, too,” she says before tilting her head slightly and pressing her lips to his once again.

* * *

Roger Gunn had never really considered himself to be petty or to get jealous. That is until he sees Jill, _his_ Jill, talking to a man in an expensive Armani suit, and he’s angled towards her, at a distance that makes Roger uncomfortable. [Not that the Armani really matters, but still].

He’d had to meet someone for lunch earlier, and he was walking back when he’d spotted her, and his first instinct had been to somehow intercept her without seeming like he was trying to do so. She seemed distracted, her mind probably running a million miles a minute through defenses and witnesses and evidence, her fingers rapidly texting on her phone. She was clearly running around town, probably, meeting clients or witnesses when she’d run into the man. He was older than her, though not by much, and he had that air of arrogance and self-importance about him as he began talking to her. From what Roger could see, Jill didn’t seem particularly thrilled, and he wondered if she was simply participating in the conversation out of politeness if anything else, which made him inexplicably smug. And then, the Armani leaned forward to brush his lips against her cheek, and Roger saw red, his fingers curling into fists as he tried to breathe and push down the sudden surge of anger and possessiveness. For a brief second, he glances back to see her push the man away. He doesn’t wait to see anything else, and instead turned around to leave, carelessly bumping into strangers.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d seen throughout the day, and when Jill texts him to ask if he was ready to meet for dinner and then the Yankees game, he contemplates not replying. But then, Roger Gunn wouldn’t be petty, and he would first listen to Jill, so he types back a quick reply before returning to the document in front of him.

She looks lovely, she always does, wearing a black pantsuit paired with a floral blouse, her burgundy coat on top, her straight hair brushed neatly over her shoulders.

“Hi,” he says once he reaches her, smiling fondly at her.

“Hey,” she greets back, shuffling closer to him.

“You look lovely,” he smirks. Briefly, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for a quick kiss before letting her go, and keeping one hand around her waist. “Dinner, and then we’ll make it by the top of the second, right?” he checks and she nods. Usually, the would just go straight to the game, but they’d both just gotten off work, so they decided they’d get dinner first. The walk to the restaurant is comfortable, his hand still on her waist as she chatters mindlessly about her latest case.

“Kate Littlejohn is a lot more organized than you,” she quips teasingly.

“Really? My office is probably covered in highlighters, colorful tabs and post-it notes,” he rolls his eyes.

“Hey, it’s a good system,” Jill defends jokingly and he laughs. “And, she’s very good.”

“She is. So, you don’t miss working with me?” he asks a little more seriously, looking over at her.

“I don’t. I prefer this more,” she says with a fond smile, lifting up their joined hands, and he smiles too before leaning in to kiss her. The rest of the way to the restaurant is more quiet, the two of them quietly murmuring about their day back and forth as they continue walking.

He feels Jill stiffen before he sees who they almost run into, and he freezes, his mind snapping back to what he’d seen earlier in the day, his hand firmer around Jill’s waist. Now, that he sees the man up close he realizes it’s Cliff, Jill’s ex-husband. Roger had probably only met Cliff once or twice in the almost twenty years he and Jill had both worked in the Southern District. He remembers that when Jill had started to work for the Southern District, only about a year after he had, she was already going through the divorce. He’d only met Cliff when the he had shown up to meet Jill at the courthouse the same day they’d had their first case against each other.  The man stops in front of them, his expression suddenly lighting up and Roger schools his features not to give away his feelings.

“Cliff,” Jill says tersely.

“Jill, hey!” the man – Cliff – greets with a dimpled grin. Roger wonders why one would be so happy to run into their ex-wife after so long, but he decides not to dwell too much on it as Jill glares at her ex. Then, his gaze drifts to Roger seemingly noticing him for the first time. “I’m Cliff Reynolds. And, you are?”

“Roger Gunn,” he replies neutrally, reaching to shake the other man’s hand, his other hand still firm on Jill as she leans into him. "I would say it's a pleasure, but that would be a lie," he adds sarcastically. 

“What are you doing here?” Jill asks bluntly.

“It’s a big city, Jill. We were bound to run into each other,” Cliff says with a shrug.

“Really?” she sounds incredulous. “Twice in one day?”

“Entirely coincidental,” Cliff replies firmly.

“Of course,” she scoffs. “Well, I hope there won’t be too many coincidences in the future,” she doesn’t even glance at him and it dawns on Roger that Jill and Cliff are clearly not on the best terms.

“Right, of course. Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Have a nice evening,” Cliff says, reaching to shake Jill’s hand and Roger can feel her shudder as she returns the gesture. They shake hands, as well and Roger manages to glare slightly at the other man before Cliff walks away and they continue walking, Jill pressing herself into Roger’s side.

“You okay?” he asks gently just as they reach the restaurant.

“Yeah,” she nods, though her voice is weary. Despite everything, dinner is pleasant and Roger doesn’t bring up seeing her and Cliff earlier in the day. He can see that she doesn’t want to talk about it, so instead they talk about baseball, Maggie and Lizzie, cases and his heart swells as Jill listens to him, delightfully amused, as he tells her about one of the books he’d read recently. She pays for dinner, smirking at him, and they walk together to the stadium.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks as they walk down the stairs into the metro station. She glances up at him, a fond look in her eyes, and nods. Cliff is not mentioned anymore, and Roger does his best to distract himself during the game. The game isn’t too exciting, but he appreciates all of Jill’s commentary and he smiles as she shouts with glee every time the Yankees score. He, too, joins in, letting himself get swept up by the excitement of a Yankees victory.

It’s not too late when the game is over, and they walk lazily through a park on their way home.

“Are you okay?” she asks, glancing at him carefully.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he sighs, tightening his hold on her, pressing her body closer to his. “Are you?”

“Roger…” she trails off. “You know, if there’s something you want to talk about, you can,” she tells him, lifting her hand up to cup his cheek.

“I know,” he glances down before letting out a heavy sigh. “I, uh, I saw you and Cliff earlier today,” he confesses, and she looks up at him in surprise.

“What? When?” she asks, though it’s clear they both know the circumstance. “I didn’t- he tried to kiss me, but I didn’t,” she says immediately as he guides her to a nearby bench. “Cliff never really took our divorce really well, and I guess he thought there was still something there after so long. I told him I am seeing someone and left,” she explains, and she looks like she

“Jill, you don’t have to-” he starts to say, squeezing her hand, but she cuts him off.

“I know, but I want to. I don’t want to have secrets between us,” she says softly, her voice sincere as she lifts up her gaze to meet his.

“Me neither,” he agrees, smiling at her. There’s a brief moment of silence, both of them staring at the vast emptiness in front of them before he breaks that silence. “Jill?” he asks gently and she looks over at him. “What… happened with you and Cliff?” he looks down nervously before looking back at her and he can see the clear emotion in her eyes, the reluctance to tell him mixed with the desire to do so. “You can tell me, I don’t scare easy,” he says, half-teasingly, half-apprehensively. She seems to hesitate, so he squeezes her hands and pulls her closer. “Tell me,” he repeats, a little more quietly and he sees the exact moment she gives in.

“Um, I met Cliff in college. My last year. He was a guest lecturer from a big fancy law firm, and those of us looking to go into law went to this event. He was young, the youngest partner at his firm, just thirty when I was in college. I was pretty… well, I was impressed and young and very naïve. The following year I went abroad with my two college best friends and I ran into him in London. He told me he was giving a lecture at LSE and invited me to attend. Of course, I went,” she chuckles bitterly. “I bought a new dress with a quarter of my spending money for the entire trip, but I didn’t care. I wanted to make an impression on him. He took me to a fancy restaurant after and we talked all night about, well, law…” she trails off and looks out, her gaze trained somewhere faraway as he sits patiently listening to her. “I went back to my friends and then in the spring, I met him again while I was in Italy. He told me he was looking for an intern at his firm part time, so when I decided on a law school, I applied to Harvard and his firm’s headquarters were there so I interned part time. We continued to see each other and sometime during my first year of law school things changed. He asked me to move in with him during my second year, and even though I was going to live with a good friend, I did,” she recounts, her voice filled with regret, a faraway look in her eyes. He proposed during the winter of my last year and we got married right after I finished law school. It was a pretty big, flashy wedding- most of my friends came, my sister, too. I wore a white dress,” she rolls her eyes. “We moved to New York then because he’d decided to leave his firm and I started working at Cordyn and Walsh. It was… It was a different life, I guess. Things were already not working out- we were too different, but I was willing to mold myself… to be this person he wanted me to be,” she glances back at him and he can see her eyes are glassy with unshed tears.

“Jill, you don’t have to- if you don’t want to tell me about this you don’t have to,” he tells her, holding her gaze.

“It’s okay. We said no secrets,” she shrugs casually. “Um, Cliff… Cliff wanted kids, and I didn’t- well, I didn’t really want kids, but if I had kids… I wouldn’t have minded much, I think. Anyways, we were trying a lot during that time, and eventually we got tested-” she cuts herself off, inhaling sharply and he presses closer to her, hoping to provide some comfort. “I can’t have kids,” she confesses finally. “And, Cliff- Cliff blamed me for that. After that, everything changed between us. I knew that we couldn’t come back from it, but I kept hoping something would change. When I left the firm, Cliff said he wouldn’t forgive me for ruining the successful career he built- like… like it was his career, not mine,” she says, her voice steadier, thick with emotion. “Things just kept getting worse for another year- I secretly hated him already by then, he was so… insufferable- we’d argue every night until one night I grabbed a bag I’d packed a few days before and just left. I filed for divorce the next day,” she finishes with a heavy sigh before looking back at him, emotion written all over her face, her eyes filled with unshed tears. Roger wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer before brushing his lips gently against hers as Jill rests her hands on his shoulder. The kiss is gentle and quick before he pulls away, resting his forehead against hers.

“Thank you for telling me, Jill,” he says softly, cupping her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin.

“Thank you for listening,” she smiles and leans into his touch. “I’ve never- I’ve never told anyone what happened…” she trails off before brushing her soft lips against his, her hand wrapping around his neck. He responds immediately, pulling her body closer, his fingers tracing along her back beneath the soft material of her cream blouse. He feels her shiver and pulls away slowly, reluctantly, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close.

“You want to head home?” he asks gently, and she nods.

 


	5. Personal and Professional: It Gets Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you want me to do?” he demands bluntly, his voice rising slightly. She freezes, letting out a soft sigh.
> 
> “That case – and this case – reminded me of my sister. Cynthia. I have a sister,” she nods as he inhales sharply, and a lone tear rolls down her cheek which he wipes away immediately. 
> 
> A case leads to Roger finding out about Jill's sister and Roger and Jill realize how the personal and professional is getting complicated.

It’s not often that cases affect her deeply, in that raw, personal way they affect others, but Jill can count on her fingers the cases that have affected her. A horrible rape case a few years back. Her first case at the Federal Public Defender’s Office that she lost. The first case she’d won, soon after. Defending a man who’d beat his wife so badly, she was unrecognizable because he’d said “She was a bitch”. Chloe Daniels. Kirk Keener. Julian Sarco. Steve Caldwell.

As the head of the Federal Public Defenders Office, Jill receives a stack of incoming cases every morning, and after sorting them, she distributes them among the other lawyers, including herself. This particular morning, she’s not sure why, but her mind is on Cynthia as she does, flicking through the files before calling everyone to the bullpen.

“Good morning,” she greets the attorneys before grabbing a donut from the box of pastries on the table. “Jay, I see you are on duty today,” she quips and watches the young attorney deflate before grabbing a pastry from the box himself.

“Great. Just like I was yest-” he cuts himself off when she raises an eyebrow at him. “You know what, never mind, I’m on duty,” he resigned before grabbing his bag and rushing out the door.

She starts handing out case files, “Allison, here’s a fraud case,” she says handing the young attorney.

“Not wine fraud,” she mutters with a smirk. “Insurance fraud. Fun.”

“Sandra,” she hands Sandra another file before finishing to hand out the cases and grabs her own file before returning to her office to grab her coat, only to be interrupted by the shrill ring of her cell phone. It’s an unknown number, and she swipes her finger over the screen.

“Jill Carlan,” she says automatically, pressing the phone to her ear.

“This is Manhattan Memorial Hospital and I’m Dr. Lincoln,” the woman on the other end says. Jill furrows her eyebrows in confusion despite the fact that nobody can see her. “You were listed as the emergency contact for Chloe Daniels. You’re her former attorney?”

“Yes,” she answers curtly, her voice wavering slightly as her heart starts thumping faster against her chest, fear gripping her.

“I’m afraid Ms. Daniels was attacked and is currently being treated for a few lacerations and possible head trauma-” Dr. Lincoln explains gently before Jill jumps in.

“I- is she alright?” she demands, already rushing out of the office as the other lawyers stare after her, but Jill doesn’t care.

“Yes, she’s just got a few lacerations. We’ve got police here with her attacker and we’re treating her. But, Ms. Carlan we were informed that Chloe has CTE? We’ll take her up for a CT, and my colleague Dr. Cole is here to examine her,” Dr. Lincoln tells her as Jill rushes to get a taxi.

“Yes. She was tested by Dr. Cole and he established she has CTE. I’m on my way,” she added as she told the taxi driver where to take her.

“Okay. Well, we’ll know more soon,” the doctor says calmly.

“Thank you,” Jill replies before ending the call and calling a different number. Roger.

“Personal or Professional?” Roger asks automatically, their code since the Julian Sarco case, just another measure to protect their relationship. [At first it was strange, but they’d both grown so used to it by now, they now say the words as if on autopilot].

“Professional,” she says forcefully. He hums in response, so she continues. “Listen, I think we should reschedule the meeting. Something’s come up and I need to go,” she rushes out as the taxi driver speeds towards Manhattan Memorial Hospital.

“Yeah, I mean, yes, of course,” he responds. “Um, do you know when you’ll be free?”

“Um, no, not really. I’ll- I’ll call you. When I’m free,” she says, glancing down at her watch, letting out a worried sigh.

“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine. Or you could just come by my office. I’ll be free most of the afternoon, we could… uh… we could talk then,” he says, and she can hear the nervousness in his voice despite the fact that he’s trying to sound nonchalant.

“I don’t know when I’ll be- you know what, I’ll just text you,” she brushes him off baldly and sighs.

“Oh. Right. Okay,” he says disinterestedly. “Well, um, I’ll talk to you later,” he says and Jill thinks she might have been too harsh. He seems to hesitate, and Jill can hear his heavy breathing before he breaks the silence, “are you- are you okay?” His voice is soft, concerned and Jill’s heart swells involuntarily. They’d only been doing this thing of theirs – not a relationship, Jill wouldn’t call it that – for a few months, and still Roger Gunn managed to make butterflies flutter in her stomach. [It wasn’t a relationship; it was sex, and dinners every other night, and Jill now kept a toothbrush at his place along with a spare set of pajamas, and baseball games, and talking about not talking about work, and still facing off in court, so definitely not a relationship; they were just being Roger and Jill]. Briefly, Jill wonders if she should be reading more into it; the way he spoke to her, the tender way he looked at her, the way he knew what she would order for dinner without asking her, the way he knew that she wore pinstripes only at Red Sox games. _No need to complicate things,_ she decides against it.

“Yeah- yes. I’m fine,” she says, her voice wavering slightly. [She hopes he doesn’t notice it, or at least that he decides not to press her].

“Okay,” he says, resigned. Jill frowns just as the cab comes to a stop and she fishes out some cash, paying the cabbie. “Well, I’ll see you later, I guess… Just let me know when you want to have that meeting,” he brushes it off, not unexpectedly.

“Okay,” she agrees before ending the call and jumping out, running in her heels towards the hospital.

“Chloe Daniels!” she demands breathlessly once she reaches the Nurse’s Station. “I’m Jill Carlan.”

“I’ll page someone for you right away,” a young nurses says, smiling kindly at her, not quite looking up from the screen in front of her. A few minutes later, a young doctor in light blue scrubs shows up.

“Yes, hello, Ms. Carlan. I’m Dr. Lincoln, we spoke on the phone,” they shake hands. “We took Ms. Daniels to the ward, if you’ll follow me, we’ll meet Dr. Cole there,” the young-looking resident tells her and Jill nods numbly as she follows after her. _Who likes hospitals?_ Jill had gotten used to hospitals, but somehow her skin crawls and all she wants is to get out as soon as possible. _Chloe needs you,_ she reminds herself. _She has no one,_ is another sad, painful fact her brain forces her to remember nonetheless.

The hospital decides to keep Chloe overnight, and for that Jill is grateful, letting out a relieved sigh before going to get Chloe’s papers in order. Once she’s done, she hails a cab back to the office.

“Ted! Sandra! My office,” she calls out the moment she steps into the office and the two look up as she comes in before following after her.

“What’s up?” Sandra asks immediately, shutting the door behind her.

“Chloe Daniels was assaulted today and ended up in the hospital,” she says, turning towards them as she hangs her coat before depositing the stack of papers from her bag onto her desk. She sees a flicker of understanding and recognition in Sandra’s eyes as the young attorney nods.

“How’s she doing?” she asks.

“Not good. The doctors say that she doesn’t-” Jill swallows thickly before continuing, “she doesn’t have long with the CTE,” she finishes sadly. “Okay, Ted, I need you to get me all the information on what happened to Chloe Daniels today. Sandra, there’s a motion I need you to take care of,” she hands Sandra a blue folder. “Here, Ted, this will help you get started,” she hands him a small post-it where she’d jotted down the main details about what had happened – what she’d managed to get from the police officer still at the hospital when she’d gotten there as well as the hospital records. “I need all information on what happened,” she tells them, her tone serious. “Also, I’ll appreciate a level of discretion,” she adds as the two leave her office. Briefly, Jill contemplates texting Roger to rearrange their meeting to – maybe – right now, but decides she should get some more work done before going to meet Roger. She jots down what to talk about at their meeting before getting back to her other case. Her phone rings and she glances to see it’s Roger before answering.

“Personal or professional?” she asks, though she has a feeling what his answer might be.

“Professional. Listen, I have a meeting with Delap later, so I won’t have time to meet unless you want to meet sometime soon because I also have a case after I go deal with Delap,” he tells her.

“Um, now’s actually fine,” she says, standing up and grabbing a stack of papers before neatly putting them in her bag. “I’ll come to yours?”

“Yes,” he pauses, “unless you want to meet at the diner?” he suggests and Jill rolls her eyes even though he can’t see her.

“Roger…”

“Professional, of course. Well, you do owe me a Denver omelet-”

“Western,” she cuts in. “But, okay, we can go to the diner on Saturday,” she rolls her eyes though he can’t see her as she exits her office.

“Okay,” he agrees.

“I’ll be there soon,” she hangs up just as Ted catches up to her.

“Chloe Daniels was assaulted by Officer Jeremy Nichols because she was trespassing on federal land. The officer was rough with her, and well, there was a small scuffle. Witnesses say she was very confused and hysterical-”

“She has a serious degenerative brain disease,” she cuts in, exasperated.

“Yes, well…” Ted trails off before handing her a file. “Anyways,” he drawls, “the U.S. Attorney’s office is prosecuting the case and they’re charging the officer with a misdemeanor. The officer is looking to cut a deal,” Ted reports, handing her another file. Jill rolls her eyes. “He was already let go by the ATF.”

“A misdemeanor? Are you kidding me?” she blurts out in disbelief. “Some officer gets pushed and they push for a significant prison sentence. A mentally ill woman gets assaulted by the police – the U.S. Attorney’s Office is charging with a misdemeanor!” she snaps as she rushes towards the exit. “Anything else?” she turns to face Ted abruptly. The investigator’s usually cocky smirk vanishes and he shakes his head. “Well, keep an eye on it. Anything new that comes out connected to this? Let me know,” she orders. “What about the officer? Are we picking this up?” [The prospect of another Kirk Keener case makes her stomach churn].

“Nope. Nichols has a brother-in-law who is a lawyer with some legal aid clinic. Figures. Anyways, I’ll keep an eye out,” he nods at her and she leaves the building before crossing over Foley Square and making her way to the U.S. Attorney’s office, her blood boiling as she marches to Roger’s office. She doesn’t bother to knock.

“You’re charging a misdemeanor? For assaulting a mentally ill woman?” she blurts out as soon as she bursts into his office. Roger looks up immediately, clearly taken aback.

“Okay… Well, come in, Jill,” he motions for her. “What are we talking about?” he sighs, shutting his laptop.

“Officer Jeremy Nichols assaulted Chloe Daniels, who suffers from a serious mental illness, and she’s currently in the hospital! And, you’re charging a misdemeanor?” she crosses her arms.

“Oh. _That_. Well, yes, it’s a misdemeanor since no serious harm was done to the victim. We’re charging both assault and battery, though,” he says, his blue eyes looking up to meet hers. “And, the ATF fired him.”

“As if that makes it better,” she rolls her eyes. “The ATF had to fire him. He’s got a lawyer and he’ll probably get a deal,” she crosses her arms as Roger furrows his eyebrows in confusion before it clicks that she’s not talking about herself.

“Look, there’s nothing I can do. I have no basis to push for a felony charge,” he shrugs.

“Are you kidding me?” she snaps, glaring at him. “He gets a deal – probably minimal time – while Chloe Daniels is in the hospital!”

“Look, Jill, I get that this is upsetting- it is upsetting, but Chloe Daniels did not suffer serious bodily harm; just a few minor lacerations for which she didn’t even need stitches-”

“She has a mental illness-”

“She had a mental illness prior to the incident. It doesn’t mean anything,” he shrugs, brushing it off, and Jill can feel her heart thump faster in her chest.

“It doesn’t mean anything? Really? Is that what you really believe-”

“Jill,” Roger interrupts her calmly, though she can see that he’s starting to get slightly irritated.

“Do you know what it’s like to have a mental illness?” she snaps. “Or- or what it’s like when someone you care about suffers from mental illness?” she asks, her voice quiet, breathless. Roger shakes his head, his blue eyes trained on her. “Of course you don’t,” she says and turns to leave.

“What do you want me to do?” he demands bluntly, his voice rising slightly. She freezes, letting out a soft sigh.

“I want you to charge him with a felony,” she grits her teeth. “I want you to take this seriously-”

“We are taking this seriously!” he snaps, crossing his arms as he stands up.

“No, you are not! This was an officer assaulting and hurting a woman who hadn’t done anything, and now she’s in the hospital! And, that officer? He gets nothing – maybe a fine or a month in prison – and he gets off because this office will obviously protect him!”

“Really, Jill?” he scoffs, his eyes meeting hers steadily, and she winces slightly. “Is that what you really think of this office?” [ _Me?_ goes unsaid].

“I’m done,” she says with finality, turning to leave.

“Jill, wait,” he says, his tone softer, reaching for her. “Can we talk? What is going on with you?” he asks gently, his hand resting gently on her arm.

“Don’t,” she mutters, wrenching herself out of his grasp before storming out of his office, tears prickling at her eyes. She doesn’t stop until she reaches Foley Square where she finally sinks down on a secluded bench and lets herself cry.

* * *

Roger stares after Jill as she storms out of the office. The afternoon’s events had been strange, and he hadn’t expected Jill Carlan to burst into his office demanding he increase the charge against Officer Nichols, but maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. His mind drifts back to the case of Kirk Keener, the last time Jill Carlan had managed to talk him into charging an officer. Back then, he’d said it was the absolutely horrifying video that had pushed him to do it and the fact that it had been leaked, but really it had also been Jill. Still, this was different. This seemed more personal, and he’d ached to reach for her and wrap his arms around her, but he’d known he couldn’t. With a sigh, he grabs his briefcase and leaves his office and walks to Delap’s office, none too thrilled at the prospect of having to talk to Delap.

His meeting with Delap is the usual affair; Delap is condescending while he listens disinterested and gives Delap the answers his boss wants to hear before Delap reminds him why he has his job and the latest Roger has to care about because his boss’ boss’ boss does. With an eye roll, he leaves and walks across Foley Square to the courthouse for Officer Nichols’ arraignment hearing. Normally, Roger would have given the case to one of the AUSAs, but Seth was out for the day, and Roger had wanted a distraction since he’s had a slow week.

“Mr. Gunn,” Judge Byrne says, and Roger inhales sharply. “What is the government charging Officer Nichols with?”

“We’re charging Officer Jeremy Nichols with assault and battery according to 18 USC section 113 (a) (5), Your Honor,” he recites, glancing across the aisle.

“Thank you. Officer Nichols, have you had an opportunity to read the indictment?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Officer Jeremy Nichols replies firmly.

“And how do you plead?”

“Guilty, Your Honor.”

“Is there a plea deal in place?” Byrne looks towards him, and part of Roger – the part that is _Roger_ – wants to say no, but the part of him that is the Chief of the Criminal Division knows what the right answer is.

“Not yet. We’re talking,” he says flatly.

“Okay. We’ll have a bail hearing tomorrow at 10:00 sharp. Please, notify the Court when you’ve reached a deal. Otherwise, we’ll set a sentencing date for Thursday the 20th.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” he agrees.

“We’ll stand in recess.”

“We’re talking?” Victoria asks, glancing over at him.

“Yes. We can go to my office and discuss,” he says with a shrug. “Unless, you’re busy or have a better idea?”

“Nope. After you,” she motions for him and they walk together across Foley Square to his office.

 “We’ll do two months’ imprisonment and $10,000 fine,” he says baldly, without preamble as they sit in the conference room.

“One month and a $2000 fine.”

“One month in prison, two months’ probation and a $2000 fine.”

“Three months’ probation and a $2000 fine.”

“Nope, this guy has to do jail time-”

“He’s an Officer,” the young defense attorney protests helplessly. “He has no priors- the woman was trespassing on federal land, and-”

“Well, I don’t think he’ll be one for much longer,” he mutters sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Chloe Daniels suffers from a degenerative brain disease and has no recollection of how she ended up on federal property, so that’s beside the point. Look, he has to do jail time. One month in prison, two months’ probation and a $1000 fine. That’s as low as we’ll go. So, either you take it or we go to trial,” he says firmly, pursing his lips.

“Fine, I’ll take it to my client,” the defense attorney groans before standing up.

“Good. Don’t just take it; sell it,” he nods at her before storming out of the conference room and straight to his office, where he shuts the door, his mind automatically going to Jill.

He can’t focus on work, and at 6:00 o’clock sharp, he grabs his things and is out the door before texting Jill that he’s ready to go. [Jill doesn’t reply]. He waits outside, by Chambers station, but ten minutes later, Jill doesn’t show up, so he decides to call her.

“Hey,” he says warily, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, his palms sweaty with anxiety.

“Personal or professional?” Jill cuts in without greeting, her voice flat.

“Personal,” he says softly. Jill lets out a heavy sigh, and Roger has the feeling he already knows the answer. Still, he has to try. “I’m heading home. You?”

“Not tonight,” she says, her voice gentler now. “Sorry, but I have a lot of work to do,” she adds with a sigh and Roger immediately slumps.

“That’s okay,” he says, defeated. “See you tomorrow?” he asks hopefully.

“Yeah,” she says sadly.

“Okay. Bye,” he says as he starts heading home.

“Bye,” she mutters before hanging up.

Sleep doesn’t come easily that night – nor any other night when he’s alone – the bed suddenly feeling too big for him. He can’t take his mind off her, off the case, and he tosses and turns all night before giving up on sleep altogether around 04:00. He checks his phone, but there are no new messages from Jill. He wonders if she’s sleeping, or if she’s working. _I don’t sleep much,_ she’d once told him. With a sigh, he throws on some jeans and a sweater and grabs his phone before making his way downstairs and hailing a cab.

Clearly, Jill had been working when she opens the door, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a Yankees t-shirt.

“Roger… what- what are you doing here?” she stares at him as she opens the door wider.

“I came to see you,” he says softly. “Can I come in?”

“Um, yeah, sure…” she motions for him to enter and he can see that her coffee table is littered with case files and opened takeout boxes along with a glass of wine. “What’s going on?” she asks as she leads him into the living room.

“I should ask you the same thing. What was that earlier today?” he blurts out. [He’d prepared a whole speech on the way, but the moment she’d opened the door all the words he’d been running over in his mind escaped him]. From the look in Jill’s eyes, it’s clear she knows what he’s talking about, though, as she sinks down on the couch and motions for him to join her.

“Roger…” she trails off with a sigh. “Can we not?”

“No. We have to. We’re always being careful of not mixing what we are with work. But, this,” he gestures between them, “was the other way around and I- I don’t know what happened, Jill, but I do know it was personal. It was personal and I can’t not care if it was personal,” he tells her as he reaches for her and he can feel her tense up when his hand rests on arm. She’s looking away from him, but when she turns he can see her eyes are glassy with unshed tears.

“This isn’t fun anymore, is it?” she says pragmatically, letting out a soft sigh.

“No it’s not. You know it hasn’t been for a while. I care about you, Jill,” he says gently, turning to face her, and she nods. “And, I think you feel the same way,” he whispers hoarsely, cupping her cheek.

“Yeah, I care about you, too,” she says softly. “Chloe Daniels was my client a few months ago, and when she ended up confused in Penn station I knew something was wrong. I was sure she had a mental illness, but a psychiatric evaluation turned up nothing. Then, I found out she was a cheerleader, and I thought she might have CTE. We had her tested, even though it wasn’t FDA-approved, but it was positive, so she got offered a deferred prosecution,” she explains, and Roger thinks he’d heard of the case, but he probably hadn’t been paying much attention to it. He suddenly wishes he had. He can see her shudder, bracing herself for whatever she’s about to tell him, and he laces his fingers with hers, squeezing her hands. “That case – and this case – reminded me of my sister. Cynthia. I have a sister,” she nods as he inhales sharply, and a lone tear rolls down her cheek which he wipes away immediately.

“Jill…” he whispers softly.

“Cynthia has, um, well she was never properly diagnosed. The last time she was given a diagnosis, a wrong one, she left and didn’t come back for a year. I haven’t seen her in five years- I don’t- I don’t know where she is. I’ve hired a PI, but nothing. My sister has a mental illness, but she’s never been treated for it or diagnosed properly. And, I just- I miss her. I miss her so much and this case just reminded me of her. Because if it was her, I would want- I would want Nichols to pay…” she sighs and ducks her head, but he cups her chin and tilts her head up.

“I am so sorry, Jill. I- I wish I’d known. I wish I’d known and could’ve been there for you,” he says regretfully, wiping away another straight tear with his thumb. [And, deep inside him, he wants him to. Roger isn’t a believer in revenge, yet in this moment he wants to make Nichols pay simply because of Jill].

“You’re here know. I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have pushed you away. Shouldn’t have yelled at you like that today,” she sighs and shakes her head before leaning in and pressing her lips to his. He kisses her back automatically, wrapping her arms around hers and pulling her closer to him, so close she’s practically in his lap as their tongues tangle together, her hands around his neck, his hands on her waist. Briefly, he pulls away, resting his forehead against hers, both of them panting.

“Jill, are you sure about this? Y- you’re upset-” he mutters against her lips, his voice husky.

“Yes. I just- I need this, Roger. I need you, right now,” she whispers headily before pressing her lips to his, and Roger kisses her back, their lips molding together perfectly.

He ends up spending the night.

* * *

“Mr. Gunn, Ms. Pratt, you’ve notified the Court that you’d like to enter into a plea arrangement?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Victoria replies.

“Is the defendant in agreement with the plea deal?”

“Your Honor, actually, we filed a superseding indictment. The victim, a woman suffering from Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy, was assaulted by Jeremy Nichols. And, we’ve gotten notice from the hospital that she’s required surgery, so we filed a superseding indictment. We’re charging 18 USC section 113 (a) (6) – assault resulting in serious bodily injury,” he sighs as he stares directly at Byrne, who nods at him. From the corner of his eye, he notices Ms. Pratt looks flabbergasted.

“Your Honor, this superseding indictment is entirely unjustified!”

“How so?” Roger quips, turning to her.

“My client was ensuring order on Governor’s Island-”

“Really? Order? How was a fifty-year-old woman with CTE a threat to order on Governor’s Island?” Roger quips sardonically.

“Counselors, my Chambers,” Byrne interrupts them, and with a sigh they follow him to his Chambers.

“You didn’t-”

“Notify you? I did. And, for the record, that was curtesy,” Roger snaps at Pratt as Byrne looks between them.

“Well, you had no right to charge my client that way! Nichols was acting within protocol-” Roger scoffs.

“No right? I have every right to charge whatever I want! And, since when is an officer’s protocol to assault a mentally ill person?” he snaps, inflection clear in his voice.

“She was trespassing-”

“She doesn’t remember! She doesn’t know how she ended up there! We’re discounting that from the investigation and last I checked you weren’t a prosecutor, so it’s not your job to do it!” He’s aware his voice is raising in pitch, but everything that had in the past few days, including Jill telling him about her sister the night before, the case, everything was suddenly becoming too much. “Do you even fucking know what it’s like to live with mental illness?” he bellows. “Don’t answer that. Your client took advantage of Chloe Daniels’ condition and assaulted her and now you’re questioning my decision whether to file additional charges!”

“Mr. Gunn, calm down!” Byrne snaps, stopping him as Victoria Pratt simply stares at him in shock. Roger sighs, chest heaving. “That is enough,” his former boss adds and Roger nods. “Sit down. Both of you,” he says sternly, motioning for them to sit down. “Now, Ms. Pratt, your client is guilty of the first charge, and he will probably plead guilty to the superseding charge. Either way, there will be a trial. Or, the two of you could discuss a deal, that seriously deals with what Mr. Nichols did. I’ll leave you to it,” Byrne tells them seriously before walking towards the door. He hesitates as he’s about to leave, turning to face them – or, him – fixing Roger with a hard stare. “And, Mr. Gunn, keep your temper in check,” he tells him seriously and Roger nods. [He usually keeps his temper in check, and he hadn’t gotten this angry in a long time, but he’d felt so overwhelmed, the case and the events of the past few days suddenly becoming too much. _And, Jill,_ his brain reminds him].

Victoria Pratt lets out a soft sigh and crosses her legs, “he’ll plead guilty. What are you offering?”

“Five years in prison with probation for 1 year,” he says tersely. “Take it or leave it,” he sighs.

“Okay. I’ll take it to my client,” she says with a heavy sigh.

* * *

Jill arrives at their usual meeting spot barely five minutes after he does and Roger reaches for her, wrapping his arms around her.

“Hey,” she greets him, her green eyes meeting his. “Are you okay?” she asks softly.

“I filed a superseding indictment. Nichols is getting five years in prison plus probation,” he says carefully.

“Roger…”

“I didn’t do it for you- well, not exactly. I did it for Chloe Daniels. But, I did do it for you,” he admits, and all he wants is to kiss her, but he knows they’re still in public, and that wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Thank you,” she tells him, and the corners of her lips curl into a smile, and Roger feels himself warm on the inside. “Chloe made it through her surgery, by the way,” she adds as they start walking.

“That’s good,” he mutters, keeping one arm around her waist.

“You okay?” she asks again, concern clear in her voice.

“Yes. I’m fine-” he cuts himself off when he sees the look in her eyes. “-I may have gotten very angry at defense counsel?” He knows it sounds more like a question.

“Roger…” Jill scoffs, shaking her head. “Let’s just go home. Chinese takeout for dinner?” she asks, pressing herself closer to him as they continue walking and the crowd swallows them.

“Yes,” he smiles at her, and when they’re far enough from Foley Square and the Mother Court, he leans down, his palm cupping her cheek, and brushes his lips against hers. Jill kisses him back immediately, her lips molding with his as she deepens the kiss. When they pull away, breathless and panting, he rests his forehead against hers, their noses barely brushing against each other.

“I think we might need some contracts,” Jill says softly and he smiles. “This is complicated. The professional and the personal.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he smirks as they continue walking home – to his apartment – their arms wrapped around each other.


	6. Kale and Donuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jill moves in with Roger and they have to figure out their different personalities.

Jill was well-aware what day it was. Still, finding Roger in front of her door, at seven a.m. sharp no less, was a surprise. He’s holding two steaming takeaway cups of coffee and a brown paper bag which he hands to her as soon as she sleepily motions for him to come in.

“You haven’t even started,” he mutters dejectedly, causing her to roll her eyes. [Ever since she’d agreed to move in with him, Roger had been practically counting down the days till moving day while she’d been consciously avoiding even thinking about the subject matter. Still, at his insistence, she’d bought several cardboard boxes the other day and had kind of started to sort her clothes. Kind of].

“Um, hey,” she mumbles sleepily, trying to rub sleep from her eyes while taking a sip of the coffee he hands her before peering into the brown paper bag to find a strawberry-glazed donut. “I’m suddenly happier to see you,” she remarks as she pulls the pastry out of the bag.

“I know,” Roger smirks as he takes a sip of his own coffee. Jill bites into the donut immediately, closing her eyes involuntarily when hit with onslaught of flavors, before moaning in pleasure. The donut is soft, and the flakes of powdered sugar melt in her mouth, and she licks the pink frosting off her lips while Roger simply watches her, his expression a mixture of wonder and slight discomfort. “I admit, I’m feeling slightly jealous of that donut right now,” he says with a fake pout. Jill smiles and walks closer to him, donut still in her hand before wrapping one arm around Roger’s neck and pressing her lips to his. Roger responds immediately, wrapping his arms around her waist as he deepens the kiss, reluctantly tasting the remains of the donut himself, though he doesn’t complain. Their tongues tangled loosely for a few seconds before Jill pulls away gently. “Now, I’m suddenly not,” he quips before taking a sip of his coffee while Jill takes another pleasure-filled bite of her donut, succeeded by a moan that causes Roger to smirk rather smugly at her.

“Are you sure you don’t want some?” she asks with a mischievous grin, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Nope,” he says quickly. “I’d rather not put that heart attack waiting to happen in me,” he adds with an eye roll.

“You’re missing out,” she retorts before taking another bite, letting out a moan as she tastes the pastry, her tongue finally reaching the strawberry-flavored filling, and she beams with delight. Roger just hums absentmindedly.

After they finish eating their quick breakfast, Roger turns to Jill, his face serious. “So, where do we start?” he asks, and Jill can see his excitement evident in his expression. She peers around her tiny apartment, her eyes drifting around the mostly-empty living room. [Except for a few throw pillows and a now-threadbare blanket on the couch, a few books and CDs along with a framed photo of herself and Cynthia at her Harvard graduation, the living room was going to be easy. The kitchen, too, was mostly empty except for a vase that sat on the windowsill and her baking trays and mixer and a few mementos pinned by colorful magnets to the fridge. She only owned a few mismatched plates and mugs, so she was going to leave those along with the set of cutlery and the few pots and pans she’d bought when she’d grown tired of ready-to-eat meals and takeout. She knew that she wouldn’t be taking much from her bedroom except for clothes and a few photos, and she and Roger had agreed they’d buy new towels and merge the linen]. “Jill?” Roger looks expectantly, so she turns to face him, humming in response. “Where do we start?” he repeats his earlier question.

“It’s not that much, really,” she says offhandedly, moving towards the living room. “I guess we could start here,” she said with a shrug. Roger nodded and grabbed a box from the pile in the entry way.

They start with the living room, piling her books and CDs, and she wraps the photo of herself and Cynthia in bubble wrap before gently setting it along with everything else. The throw pillows – in soft hues of blue, purple and cream with pretty designs she’d bought a little while ago from a little market in Greenwich Village – and the threadbare blanket she wraps herself in on most nights in front of SportsCenter are next, and she closes the box, letting Roger tape it shut as she makes her way to the kitchen. She wraps all her baking trays and cupcake wrappers and Roger returns with another empty box, so they pack those, working in silence only broken by the occasional bickering (Why does she need so many?). [She’d packed her mixer in its box, so she doesn’t have to worry about it]. They’re almost done with the kitchen, and it hadn’t even taken a full hour, so she moves to the fridge to what is stuck there.

“I can’t believe you kept this!” Roger remarks, pointing to the fridge and it doesn’t take her long to realize what ‘this’ is. [It was the only photographic evidence of their relationship, a photo-booth-type thing they’d done a while ago, made up for four square-shaped photos. The first picture was embarrassingly cute, Roger’s arms wrapped around her, their smiling faces pressed against each other. The second one was the generic and silly one, their tongues sticking out. The third was her favorite, Roger’s face was practically concealed by her hair, and he’d turned to whisper something funny and ridiculous and entirely Roger-like in her ear, so she was mid-laughter, turned slightly towards him. The fourth one was strangely intimate and sweet; she’d turned to press a kiss to his cheek, but he’d turned so she ended up kissing the corner of his mouth, and Roger being Roger had pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, so the camera had captured a proper smooch]. She smiles at him.

“Of course, I kept it,” she tells him with a laugh. “I think it’s nice,” she adds with a smile before gently pulling it out from underneath the magnet that had been pinning it to the fridge. “Besides, it’s not like we have thousands of photos,” she remarks as an afterthought.

“It’s embarrassing and ridiculous is what it is,” Roger retorts, faux-grumpily.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be such a grouch!” she tells him, shoving him slightly, and he chuckles, amused. “Admit it, you love these photos,” she says, leaning into him before tilting her head up to press a kiss to his cheek, but he moves and captures her lips with his own, his hands wrapping around her waist, pulling her in for a longer kiss that she returns eagerly, her hands wrapping around his neck, photograph still in her hand. When they finally pull away, breathless and panting, he rests his forehead against hers, their noses brushing.

“You’re right,” he admits huskily. “I do love these photos… but, I love you more,” he adds and kisses her again.

“You’re such a sap,” she mutters against his lips when they pull away simultaneously, albeit reluctantly, hitting his shoulder slightly.

“But, you love me anyways,” he quips, smirking smugly and she smiles.

“I do,” she says. “Now, let’s get back to it,” she says, pulling away from him to grab the other mementos that had been pinned to the door of the fridge (a few more photos of herself and Cynthia, tickets from games she and Roger had gone to, a photo of her and Cynthia and their parents, a few post cards she’d bought on a whim from vacations she used to go on and ones Cynthia had very rarely sent her). She takes them with her and Roger closes the box labeled ‘Kitchen’ in black Sharpie before they make their way to her bedroom and small, ensuite bathroom.

“You know, when you said this would only take half a day, I thought you were joking,” he remarks matter-of-factly as she starts piling her clothes into a large duffel bag.

“I wasn’t kidding, I hardly live here,” she shrugs. [Roger’s place felt increasingly more like home, and she hardly spent any time at her apartment, especially recently]. “We can even get lunch after,” she adds, zipping the duffel bag shut before grabbing a suitcase.

“Aren’t women supposed to have more stuff?” he gestures around her bedroom, his eyebrows raised.

“Maybe,” she replies. “But, clothes fit easily in a duffel bag and other stuff doesn’t,” she shrugs vaguely, continuing to fold clothes without looking up. When Roger doesn’t say anything, she looks up to see his expression suddenly had become grimmer, guarded, and it dawns on her why he’d gone quiet. “You can ask me, you know,” she says quietly as she finishes folding her blouses, setting them gently into the bag. Roger sighs, and blushes slightly, embarrassed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” he hesitates, “or bring up something you’d rather not remember,” he sighs nervously, moving some of the things that had been haphazardly thrown onto the bed, before he sits down, his gaze drifting away. Jill can see he’s thinking hard about something, can see his thoughtful expression she usually finds endearing, but it isn’t as much now. With a heavy sigh, she moves around the bed before sitting down beside him, lacing her fingers with his before lifting their joined hands and pressing a tender kiss to his knuckles. Roger looks up to meet her gaze and leans into her touch.

“I don’t mind,” she says softly, though thoroughly touched by his thoughtfulness and how attentive he is. “After I left Cliff and after the divorce – I lost a bit of money – it was hard to find a place to live. I moved around quite a few times,” she explains, and pauses, unsure if she should continue, but he squeezes her hand gently in comfort and encouragement. “Sometimes, I moved because I wanted to, because I could afford better neighborhoods; when Cynthia came back,” she gulps and leans into him before continuing, “other times I had to move because of some shitty landlord, because I couldn’t make rent…” she says and trails off. “It doesn’t matter anymore, though,” she adds gently, cupping his cheek, and Roger leans into the touch before pressing his lips to her wrist. They stay like that for a few minutes before they stand, brushing off the intensity of the conversation.

They finish folding her clothes quickly, followed by the things from her bathroom and the various nick knacks that were scattered throughout.

“What’s this?” Roger asks bluntly after a while, holding up a polaroid-sized photograph, his expression closed over, unreadable, except for the weariness in his eyes and the curious way he’s looking at her. Jill freezes for a moment when she realizes who is in the photo. [It’s a younger version of herself and Cliff, sitting in the booth of a diner, laughing while eating off of each other’s plates. They looked happy, and Jill thinks that must’ve been the one time they were truly happy]. “Jill?” he asks again after a while, his voice soft, concerned.

Jill lets out a weak sigh, but doesn’t answer straightaway. [What can she really say? There’s nothing that will make it better, nothing that will really soften the blow to Roger’s ego. Not that Jill should be concerned with soothing Roger’s ego, but still]. “It’s the only photo I have of me and Cliff. The only one I took when I left,” she answers truthfully at last. Roger nods, and Jill steps towards him, reaching for him before stopping herself. “It doesn’t… it doesn’t mean anything. Not anymore, at least,” she says gently, her green eyes meeting his. Roger reaches to wrap his fingers around her wrist, his eyes, full of emotion, boring deeply into hers.

“You don’t… you don’t have to explain, Jill-” he tries, but she continues.

“Maybe I took it out of spite. Who knows? I left all the wedding photos, the expensive vacation photos, dinner parties and photos in expensive restaurants – I left all of that there. But, I took this, and I don’t even know why. Maybe I didn’t want Cliff to have this one photo of us… when we were actually happy. Maybe it was the first one I reached for. I don’t know,” she shrugs vaguely, tracing the two smiling people in the photograph with her thumb, a part of her yearning for that, a part of her wondering if it was all real. But then, she lifts her gaze to meet Roger’s – vulnerable, steady and reassuring – and she realizes that it doesn’t matter. No one brief flicker of happiness with Cliff could ever compare to all the happy moments with Roger. “It really doesn’t matter,” she tells him honestly. “Nothing with Cliff, even a brief moment of happiness, could ever compare with what we have,” she continues, reaching to cup his cheek with her palm, her thumb rubbing against his jaw. Roger smiles, leaning into her touch and leans down towards her just as she tilts her head up to brush her lips against his. It’s a slow, comforting, familiar sort of kiss, the kind she’d grown used to, the kind she likes to savor languidly, and Jill loses herself in it, pressing herself closer to him as he wraps his arms around her waist. When they pull away, he still keeps his hands firmly on her hips.

“I love you,” he says softly, and she smiles, her heart beating rapidly just like it always does when Roger Gunn tells her he loves her.

“I love you, too,” she says, beaming at him. “Now, let’s finish here so we can get out and go have lunch,” she tells him, reluctantly pulling herself out of his arms. Roger smiles, a genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and nods.

“Okay,” he nods.

It doesn’t take long to finish the bedroom and the ensuite bathroom, and then they’re done. They leave the apartment, hands linked together, and Jill only spares her old life a glance before she’s out the door, feeling at once free and elated.

They drop off the boxes and bags at Roger’s – their – apartment and decide to go out for lunch.

It’s a sunny day, the sky a clear blue with only a few random clouds, though it’s not scorching hot, the perfect New York summer day, and Jill presses herself closer to Roger, their hands still linked together, fingers interlaced. It’s a closeness they’d only started to allow themselves recently, after Roger had quit the U.S. Attorney’s Office, and Jill loves it. [She loves the feel of his body next to hers, she loves that the smell of his cologne drifts through her nostrils, she loves this familiar, yet novel closeness in public, she loves that she can walk and hold his hand as if saying ‘ _mine_ ’].

“What else do we need to do?” he asks her as they walk to their favorite diner, his arm moving to rest on her lower back, gently ushering her inside.

“Well, we probably just need to unpack my things and rearrange some,” she says vaguely. They make their way to their usual booth and slide in across from each other.

“Anything we need to buy?” he asks offhandedly as he flicks through the menu. The waitress arrives and they each order burgers and sodas before returning to their conversation.

“Um, I don’t know,” she hesitates, “donuts?” she teases.

“God, no!” he groans, his head dropping dramatically. Jill laughs, shaking her head, and watches him amused. “Please, no,” he bemoans.

“Fine,” she concedes. “I hope you’re not planning to make me eat your kale smoothies because if you do, I’m leaving,” she quips, half-joking, half-serious. Roger laughs, shaking his head.

“I’ll try,” he retorts with a smirk.

“Roger!” she hisses in irritation.

“Okay, okay,” he puts his hands up in defeat. “Back to the point,” he says with a resigned sigh.

“I don’t think there’s anything?” It sounds more like a question and Roger raises his eyebrows. “We can unpack and rearrange my stuff, and if we see that we need something, we can go shopping tomorrow,” she tells him. The waitress arrives with their order and they start eating immediately, hungry and exhausted from the morning, the silence broken by talks of baseball.

* * *

He can’t take his eyes off of her as they eat, the light from the window shining brightly on her, and he is absolutely enthralled as he listens to her talk about the Yankees, her expression animated, her eyes twinkling. He weighs in on the conversation, sharing his own thoughts and facts, but if he were honest with himself, Roger would rather listen to Jill Carlan talk all day.

[ _She’d said yes,_ he still can’t help but remind himself. Sure, she’d said yes to moving in with him almost a month ago, but it feels more momentous when they’re actually moving in together].

“What?” she asks softly one she’s done with her food. “Don’t think I don’t see you keep staring at me,” she adds with a smirk.

“Who? Me?” he quips, as if he doesn’t feel like a kid who’d gotten caught with his hand inside the cookie jar. Jill just tilts her head, not believing him. [She knows him so well, can read him like the back of her hand. He feels so utterly vulnerable in front of her, he’s powerless]. “So what if I was?” he asks rhetorically. “You’re beautiful,” he says fondly, his gaze sweeping over her. [He’d never seen her with her hair up before; her long blonde locks that are either pin straight or wavy usually cascade down her shoulders and he loves how it makes her face look more relaxed, younger perhaps. _Not that it she doesn’t look beautiful with her hair down,_ he thinks. She’s wearing a loose Yankee’s long-sleeved tee, the sleeves rolled up and a pair of skinny jeans and Roger doesn’t think anyone had ever looked so beautiful and he feels so lucky to have Jill Carlan in his life and to have her look at him in that cute, adoring way]. Jill just shakes her head at him and half-scoffs, half-chuckles.

“Who are you and what did you do to Roger Gunn?” she asks, narrowing her gaze. He just shrugs and purses his lips, shaking his head.

“Nothing,” he sighs. “Roger Gunn just fell in love with you,” he smiles fondly at her and Jill rolls her eyes before reaching across the table and hitting him lightly.

“I think moving all of my stuff has made you a little crazy. You probably need a smoothie,” she quips cynically and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Maybe we should just get out of here?” he suggests coyly. [They’d long since finished their food and were merely playing with their forks and Roger wanted to get back to their apartment where there was a bed].

“We probably should,” Jill agrees with a smirk. They ask for the bill and he pays after much argument with Jill, and then, hands linked together, they leave. Despite his earlier protests, he goes along with her when she stops at a Dunkin Donuts and watches fondly as she picks four different kinds of donuts before taking them in in a takeaway box. [She buys him a smoothie from the place around the corner he likes].

Roger is surprised they get home safely and in one piece because as soon as the lock clicks behind them, he can’t help himself and he shoves her gently against the door, pinning her before pressing his lips to hers. Jill kisses him back eagerly, winding her hands around his neck before slipping her tongue into his mouth, her lips molding with his. Slowly, almost agonizingly so, he slides his hands down her back, finally resting them on her hips before slipping his hands underneath her tee, his fingers rubbing slow, sensuous circles on the skin above the waistband of her jeans. Jill squirms and moans beneath his touch, her body pressed between his hand the wall, her lips still gladly kissing his. As he slips his fingers further, beneath the waistband of her jeans, she slides her hands down, her fingers finding the hems of his t-shirt and lifting it up. When air becomes a necessity, Jill pulls away, albeit reluctantly, and Roger rests his forehead against hers as she licks her lips in delight and anticipation.

“Bedroom?” she whispers headily against his lips and he nods before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her towards the bedroom eagerly.

* * *

Eventually, they grow tired and Jill rolls off of Roger, his arm still draped across her waist, before glancing at the clock to find it was well into the afternoon.

“Maybe we should start rearranging things?” she suggests, resting her head on his chest and presses a kiss to his shoulder. Roger hums in response, nodding, before he kisses her forehead tenderly.

“Yeah…” he sighs softly. “Or maybe we could…” he trails off suggestively, his fingers drifting along her back, “…you know,” he mutters softly before pressing his lips behind her ear, along her jaw, down to her collarbone. Jill lets out a soft moan before turning in his arms, winding her own around his neck and pulling him in for a proper kiss, their tongues tangled together, his arms wrapped around her waist.

Eventually, she pulls away reluctantly, hands cupping his cheeks as he rests his forehead against hers. “We really have to get up now,” she mutters headily against his lips, her fingers trailing slowly along his jaw to his lips. “This apartment won’t rearrange itself,” she adds huskily. Roger just grunts in agreement, his blue eyes boring deeply into hers, his hands moving to rest on either side of her head.

Getting out of bed becomes more of a challenge, neither of them quite wanting to move out of the embrace, or untangle their limbs, or pull away. Eventually though, they manage to pull away enough to put on clothes and Jill leads him out of the bedroom.

Rearranging her things becomes a series of well-structured arguments about fitting their lives together.

Her clothes are the easiest – Roger had already cleared out half of his closet probably weeks ago and she teases him for it.

“I only did it like a few days ago, relax,” he tells her with an eye roll.

“Sure you did,” she quips before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I know you were excited for me to move in,” she adds once she pulls away. “Thank you,” she says softly. Roger just rests his hands on her hips and kisses her again.

Putting the books on the shelves in the study becomes about Roger wanting to insert her books with his, amongst his orderly collection while she just wants a few shelves for herself.

“This way you can also read my books. And, it’ll be more clear,” he tells her with a smirk.

“I don’t have that many books!” she retorts fiercely. “I don’t need my books to become part of your library collection,” she adds snidely.

Decorating the living room with some of her things becomes about Jill filling in Roger’s negative space.

“Where would you like me to put my photos?” she quips archly, hands crossed over her chest.

“Um…” he hesitates, eyes drifting around the room, “…I don’t know,” he waves his hands around. “Around here?” he shrugs.

“Very helpful,” she retorts before proceeding to set a photograph of herself and Cynthia by the TV. Roger just puts his hands up in defeat and hangs his head. “You know, if you actually want to help, you should move the ficus from the bedroom here,” she tells him with raised eyebrows, as if daring him to start an argument they’ve had so often.

“I… like it in the bedroom?” he tries unhelpfully. Jill just rolls her eyes.

“And I don’t,” she replies with a huff. “I don’t like tripping over it and I don’t like how it… looms,” she waves around with her hands. “We talked about this, Roger,” she adds with a smirk.

“Fine,” he sighs in defeat before trotting into the bedroom. When he returns from the bedroom, he’s carrying his beloved ficus.

The kitchen is easy, Jill just puts all her baking trays into the cupboard Roger had cleared and sticks the photo booth picture and the game tickets to the fridge.

“We should buy a frame for this,” he says huskily, his lips barely inches from her ear as he stands behind her and she can feel his body pressed against hers, his hand drifting along her waist, his fingers rubbing circles along her hips. She leans into him and moans softly.

“We should,” she agrees with a soft hum as he wraps his arms around her waist and presses a kiss to her neck. “This turned out well,” she says appreciatively, her gaze drifting around the apartment.

“Mm, it did,” Roger agrees. “We should order dinner,” he suggests before adding, “I’m too tired to cook.”

“Chinese?”

“Whatever you want,” he mutters softly.

They eat Chinese takeout on the couch for dinner and drink wine, clinking their glasses cheesily as he toasts to them living together. SportsCenter is more of a background noise as she leans into him, letting Roger’s acerbic commentary run along with the game, only offering a few sarcastic remarks.

Eventually, they dump their dishes in the sink and Jill coaxes him to the bedroom. It doesn’t take long for his lips to be on hers, his hands on her waist, her fingers gripping the hem of his t-shirt as their tongues tangle together.

“I love you,” Roger whispers huskily in her ear once they settle down after a while, her head on his chest, his arm draped across her waist. “I’m happy you moved in,” he adds hoarsely.

“I love you, too,” she tells him and turns to kiss him.


	7. You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jill and Roger get married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A JillxRoger proposal/wedding was a given after 2x10, so I took a hit at it :)  
> This isn’t my favorite chapter of All the Roads and it took quite a bit of effort to write, but I still hope you enjoy so here it is!   
> xx

For a while, Roger had grown used to and accepting of the idea that he and Jill would not get married. And, being with Jill was much more important than a piece of paper, so Roger stuffed down that part of him that longed to get married. [Part of the reason he wanted to get married, he has to admit, is simply his pride; wanting to prove he can succeed if he were to do it again. But the other part, the more potent part, was that it was _Jill_. It wasn’t just anyone he would risk it for; Roger would only try again for Jill. And, that was the problem].

When they’d first gotten together, Jill had made it clear – Roger had a little too willingly agreed – that it would be just fun sex and baseball games. But, sometime afterwards, things had changed. He doesn’t mind, of course, but he’d always known that with Jill he was treading on very thin ice. Still, even when things between them had evolved, Roger had always known it would not lead to marriage as marriage was something Jill was adamantly against. So, Roger is a little unsure about how he’d ended up browsing engagement rings.

“Is there a particular style you’re interested in?” the perky saleslady asks kindly. Roger sighs nervously, not knowing how to answer. Renée had chosen her engagement ring by herself, but then Roger shouldn’t be looking to his previous marriage for inspiration.

“Something classic perhaps?” he says, though he knows it sounds more like a question as the saleslady points him to a section of square and round-shaped diamonds. “Square-shaped, I think,” he sighs, and the saleslady starts delving into an extremely detailed explanation of different cuts before showing him the various designs. [Roger feels overwhelmed, his eyes drifting over the various rings while he tries to figure out a design Jill would like]. Eventually, after much deliberation, he settles on a ring with a cushion cut diamond centerpiece, surrounded by small stones, the white gold band encrusted with small stones. “This one,” he says confidently, and the saleslady takes it out gently before motioning for him to follow her.

“This is a beautiful piece. Very classic. Lovely choice,” she tells him with a smile. “Have you been together for a long time?” she asks as she packs the ring in a small, velvet box.

“Almost a year,” he answers, his mind drifting, as it always does, to Jill. He forces a smile, trying to quash down the nerves.

“Congratulations,” the saleslady tells him, beaming.

“Thank you,” he answers pleasantly. He pays and takes the velvet box, pocketing it before leaving the shop. He walks back to the D.A.’s Office, trying to distract himself with his next case, and not think about the ring and asking Jill. [Marriage had occasionally come up in conversation, and while Jill no longer expressed such a firm disinterest, she didn’t seem too excited by the prospect and Roger wasn’t sure if she would say yes]. They were _good._ They lived together now, and Roger was happy with the current situation. And, yet, he’d bought a ring. Roger would be lying if he said just living together was enough for him, that he would be happy if they didn’t get married _ever_. Still, he didn’t want to – couldn’t even fathom – losing Jill. And, he’d rather continue like this and have Jill than risk losing her. Losing Jill would be the worst. He shakes his head, pulling himself out of his convoluted thoughts that weren’t even making sense anymore. [Roger Gunn is a rational person. Roger Gunn is not melodramatic and does not often entertain thoughts on his current relationship’s doom]. Instead, he refocuses his attention on his latest case.

He spends most of his afternoon working on the case, his mind drifting inevitably to previous cases, before he leaves the office at seven o’clock, having agreed with Jill to meet at Chambers Street. [There’s something else on his mind, a velvet box in his pocket holding the ring he’d bought, but Roger tries not to think too much about that].

Jill is already waiting for him, nearly-finished donut in hand, and he smiles fondly at her as he walks towards her.

“Hey,” he greets as soon as he reaches her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. Jill smiles at him, shoves the last bite of the donut in her mouth, her eyes instantly shutting in pleasure as she lets out a soft moan, her head dipped back. She grins at him mischievously when she opens her eyes, her lips covered in powdered sugar.

“Hi,” she greets him back, smirking. Roger chuckles fondly before lifting his hand to wipe the flakes of powdered sugar off her lips before leaning down and pulling her in for chaste kiss, his hand cupping her cheek gently. She reacts instantly, her lips molding with his, her hand moving up to rest on his shoulder, and he deepens the kiss. His lips are urging on hers and he pulls her closely, kissing her desperately like a starving man. Their tongues tangle together for a few more seconds before, reluctantly, they pull away, his hand still lingering on her cheek, and she leans into the touch.

“Shall we?” he mumbles lowly.

“We shall,” she smirks, pulling away from the embrace.

They start walking together towards Chambers Street, arms wrapped around each other, her head leaning against chest.

“You hungry?” she asks him, tilting her head to meet his gaze. “Roger?”

“Hum? Yeah, sure,” he mutters distractedly as they step onto the train. Thankfully, the train isn’t too crowded and they find two empty seats. His mind drifts away, to his case, as Jill starts listing off dinner options, though he’s not paying attention to her.

“Roger? Roger!” Jill snaps at him, pulling him out of his thoughts, gently hitting his shoulder.

“What?” he asks, tilting his head towards her.

“What do you want to eat?” she asks, her body angled towards him. “Chinese?”

“Um, yeah, sure. Whatever you want,” he says, forcing a smile.

“Are you okay?” she asks worriedly.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry. It’s just work,” he tells her softly. [ _And, the fact that I bought and engagement ring,_ his mind screams, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, but Roger ignores it].

“Are you sure? Is it a case?” she presses, reaching for his hand and interlacing their fingers loosely.

“Yeah. Sort of,” he answers her vaguely.

Jill narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, but eventually just shrugs.

His mind is miles away the rest of the train ride, and as they drop by the small Chinese restaurant nearby, Jill ordering for both of them as he hangs back. He takes the bag from her and keeps his arm wrapped around her shoulders as they walk back, listening to her talk about work, occasionally humming in agreement.

* * *

She can see something’s bothering him, that he’s distracted as soon as she sees him, the way he kisses her so urgently, so desperately, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she loses herself in the kiss, in the feel of his hand on her cheek, his arm wrapped around her waist, her own hand resting on his shoulder. Eventually, when air becomes a necessity, they pull away, breathless and panting, though his hand still rests on her cheek.  

“Shall we?” he mutters lowly, his eyes meeting hers.

“We shall,” she smirks, pulling away from the embrace.

The walk to Chambers station is quiet as they walk together, arms wrapped around each other. [It’s clear something is on his mind, but Jill isn’t sure she wants to bring it up. Usually she would bring it up, but there’s something in the way Roger is holding himself that makes her hesitate].

“Are you hungry? We could get take out, I don’t feel like cooking tonight. Unless, you-” she cuts herself off, having noticed the lack of response from him. “Roger? Roger!” she calls out his name, gently hitting his shoulder until he finally snaps out of it.  

“What?” he asks, tilting his head towards her.

“What do you want to eat?” she asks, her body angled towards him. “Chinese?”

“Um, yeah, sure. Whatever you want,” he says, forcing a smile. She can see that his mind is on something else – work, probably – so she just leans her head on his shoulder as they ride the train and orders for both of them when they stop at the small Chinese restaurant nearby his apartment. [There’s a part of her that tells her it’s something else, and she’s never been one to hold things in].  

“Are you okay?” she asks worriedly, her words cutting through the silence that had settled between them.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry. It’s just work,” he tells her softly.

“Are you sure? Is it a case?” she presses, reaching for his hand and interlacing their fingers loosely, rubbing her thumb absentmindedly over his knuckles.

“Yeah. Sort of,” he answers her vaguely. [There clearly is something else, something that’s bothering him, but Roger clearly won’t tell her, so she just shrugs it off].

They drop by their favorite Chinese restaurant and pick up takeout before making their way home.

They eat and drink wine, half-working on their laptops, Jill’s feet resting on Roger’s lap as he reviews his brief. Roger’s mind is still clearly miles away, but Jill decides to broach the subject anyways.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks, standing up and perching herself on the armrest of the couch.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You seem distracted,” she replies matter-of-factly, gently cupping his cheek, her thumb caressing it slowly and Roger leans into the touch, shutting his eyes briefly.

“Yeah, I’m just… I’ve got a new case. Guess I’m a bit distracted because of it,” he concedes before tilting his head to press a tender kiss to her wrist.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she tells him sincerely. “You can do this,” she adds more quietly before leaning in to press her lips to his. The kiss is slow and gentle, a lingering sort of kiss, both of them losing themselves in the kiss, savoring every second of it.

* * *

When she enters the kitchen, Roger is already gone, though it doesn’t surprise her. This had become a common occurrence the past few weeks, so she’s no longer surprised to see a fresh pot of coffee with a note attached to it, written in his messy handwriting, and no sign of Roger.

[Over the past few weeks, it had often occurred to her, despite her many attempts at pushing the thought away, that there was something wrong. That they’d drifted away from each other. That the lack of communication between them would be the end of them. She’d packed a bag, just in case, though she didn’t want to even contemplate using it].

_Headed in early. I’m sorry, it’s just this trial, Jill._

_Here’s a fresh pot of coffee and there’s a croissant waiting for you. See you tonight. I love you._

_Roger._

She contemplates for a second whether to eat the croissant now or on the way to the office, but decides against it and opens the bread basket to find a brown bag holding a croissant in it. Once she pulls it out, she also finds a bookmark from the Seven Acres of Books, one of Roger’s favorite bookstores, and she chuckles, amused.

 _Meet me here tonight. 19:00_ it says and Jill smiles fondly, tracing the words. [The night before, she’d brought up how he seemed so distracted lately – much like every other night – but Roger had merely shrugged it off and told her he was just busy and focused on his latest case. _Apparently, this – whatever it was – was also on his mind,_ she thinks].

Her day isn’t too busy, except that she spends most of it in court at a trial getting annoyed with Kate Littlejohn, and she manages to leave just in time. [Kate Littlejohn calls her to schedule a meeting for the next day to talk about a deal and Jill just rolls her eyes, smirking slightly].

Roger is already at the bookstore when she arrives and they share a quick, chaste kiss in greeting.

“Hey,” she greets him, flashing him a smile.

“Hi,” he returns the greeting, and Jill furrows her brows. “How was your day?” he asks.

“Fine. Tiring,” she answers with a shrug as she starts perusing the selection of books, half-turning away from him for a second. “Thanks for the coffee and croissant this morning,” she tells him.

“You’re welcome,” he says warmly. Jill narrows her gaze; sure something was going on. “I see you got my note,” he smirks.

“Yes, I did,” she smirks back before turning her attention to the selection of books around her. “So, why did you ask me to meet you here? I thought you were too busy,” she says, a tiny bit of inflection on her voice, the slight annoyance she’d felt with him the past couple of weeks coming to the surface. She’d turned away from him and takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, his voice slightly nervous, as if he’d just realized the possibility.

“I just- I get you have a big case, but you won’t even talk to me about it and I feel like we’re-” she cuts herself off, and breathes out a sigh. _–going to break up_ , she’d meant to say, but decides against it. [Saying it aloud would make it more real, or make the inevitable happen sooner. And, she doesn’t want to admit her deepest fears, that their relationship is over; that she might lose him for good. She’s aware it’s irrational, but after Cliff she can’t help herself from thinking it].

“Jill…” she hears Roger say quietly, but she doesn’t turn around. She sniffles quietly, bringing up her hand to wipe her cheek.

“It’s fine,” she mutters.

“Jill, I’m sorry,” he says gently. “Will you turn around please?” He sounds vulnerable and very much unlike himself, so Jill takes a deep breath before finally turning around only to let out gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth. Roger’s kneeling in front of her holding a velvet box, his own blue eyes gazing into hers, and Jill’s heart stops.

“Roger…” she manages to utter as she steps towards him.

“I love you,” he blurts and she can feel her heartbeat quicken. “Jill, you and I both know the pain of a relationship falling apart,” he starts and she gulps, her fingers curling slightly, itching to touch him. She nods, not saying anything, rendered speechless. “For a long time, I didn’t think I would ever be able to find love again, as cheesy as it sounds. And then, I found it with you. You, you were right in front of my face and it took me so long to realize it. I’m glad I wasn’t too late,” he says softly and she smiles, feeling tears prickle at her eyes. “I know you don’t want to go through what you went with Cliff again, but I’m not him, Jill. I know I’m not perfect, but I’m not Cliff. I can’t promise you much, but right now I can promise you that I will never make you feel like you did with him,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion, his own eyes swimming with tears. “We are not our previous marriages and you make me so happy Jill,” he smiles at her and she smiles back through her own tears.

“You make me happy, too, Roger,” she manages to say, her own voice barely above a whisper as she reaches with her hand to caress his cheek.

“I want to make you happy for the rest of our lives and I want to share the rest of my life with you. I want what we have to last because what we have is better than anything else that came before we realized that we were right for each other.” As he continues, her heart hammers in her chest and she watches, almost bracing herself, as he opens the small velvet box before gasping. “Will you marry me, Jill?” he asks finally and Jill doesn’t know what to say, her eyes trained on the small ring in the box, her heart beating erratically in her chest, tears prickling at her eyes. And then, she manages to pull her gaze away from the ring to meet Roger’s gaze, his blue eyes full of vulnerability and emotion and she knows her answer immediately.

“Yes…” she breathes out softly. “Yes,” she repeats and Roger slowly slips the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly and she smiles as he stands up before she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. Really, really kisses him. He returns the kiss, just as eager and passionate, his hands moving to rest on her hips as she deepens the kiss, her lips molding with his. The kiss is lingering, their tongues tangling together for a few more seconds before, reluctantly, they pull away, their noses brushing. Roger smiles fondly at her, and she smiles back. “I love you,” Jill whispers softly against his lips, moving her hand to cup his cheek, her fingers gently caressing his jawline.

“I love you, too,” he smiles at her, his hand still lingering on her hip.

“Now, shall we go home?” she suggests, smirking at him.

“We shall,” he agrees.

[Later, much later, he would ask her what she was about to ask him and she would shyly confess she’d been afraid they might break up. Roger would laugh and tell her that was impossible and he’d kiss her firmly, as if to make his point].

It seems like the walk home is a blur, and as soon as their inside, he presses her against the door before pressing his lips hungrily against hers, his hands tangling in her blonde tresses. Jill kisses him back just as fiercely, her hands going to rest on his shoulders, pushing off his coat and jacket, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt as Roger starts slowly pushing off her blazer before gently undoing the buttons of her blouse, letting the delicate material fall to the floor.

“Bedroom, now,” she murmurs against his lips, and they manage to stumble into the bedroom, the rest of their clothes falling to the floor within seconds. And, then she’s kissing him, her lips soft and warm against his, her arms still wrapped around his neck, fingers gently threading through his hair. Roger kisses her back, his body pressed against hers as he gently pushes her onto the bed, his fingers caressing her hips, rubbing slow, sensuous circles on her hips.

When the heady lust wears off, they lie in each other’s arms, both exhausted from lovemaking, her head resting nestled against his shoulder, his arm slung across her waist, her cheek pressed against his chest.

“I love you,” he mutters softly into her hair, his fingers gently caressing along her back.

“I love you, too,” she murmurs against his chest, her eyes drifting to her other hand that rests on his chest and the glittering ring on her ring finger. She can feel his gaze on her, and she tilts her head to press a kiss to his jawline before lifting her eyes to meet his gaze, “what?” she wonders.

“Can’t believe you actually said ‘yes’,” he quips, disbelief evident in his voice.

“You better believe it because I did,” she says with a smirk. “I know I always said I was against marriage, but things changed…” she trails off. There’s a pregnant before she continues, “I just… I just looked into your eyes and I knew my answer,” she admits, blushing.

“Just like that?” he wonders, pulling her closer as she props herself up slightly.

“Just like that,” she tells him, flashing him a smile. Roger smiles back and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead as her gaze drifts back to the jewel on her finger.

“What is it?” he mutters softly in her ear.

“Just… the ring… it’s beautiful,” she confesses reaching to trail her finger over the delicate design before leaning towards him to press a kiss against his jaw.

“So, you like it?” he asks, suddenly nervous as he leans towards her and meets her gaze.

“It’s beautiful, Roger. I love it… I love you,” she tells him honestly, her bright green eyes gazing deeply into his blue ones as he lifts her hand to press a kiss to her wrist.

“I love you, too,” he tells her before cupping her cheek and tilting her head up, capturing her lips with a kiss. It’s a linger sort of kiss, slow and soft, and when they pull away, she buries her head in the crook of his neck.

“We should go to sleep,” she mumbles against his skin as he trails his fingers along her back.

“Yeah, we should,” he agrees.

* * *

Neither of them has a huge family, so they agree to tell his daughters that evening since they’re the two most important people for both of them. As she sips her coffee, her mind drifts off to her own family, and more importantly Cynthia, wondering where she could be at the moment. Her heart aches with the thought that Cynthia would probably not come back anytime soon and Jill feels like she can’t breathe. She feels Roger’s arms wrap themselves around her waist from behind, and she turns, returning the hug, burying her head in the crook of his neck, feeling him bury his face in her hair as he rubs her back gently.

“I just miss her so much,” she whispers, her voice wavering with emotion. She presses herself closer to him, and feels him tighten his hold on her.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into her hair.

“Thank you,” she says, her face buried against his chest. Her phone pings, and she sighs, pulling away reluctantly. “Sorry, I have to get to work,” she murmurs, moving into the hallway, Roger trailing closely behind. He slips his own coat on before helping her with hers and she flashes him a grateful smile.

For a brief moment, Roger lets his gaze drift over her figure, lingering for a second longer on her hand, warmth filling him when his eyes land on her engagement ring. “What?” she asks once she notices him staring.

“Are you going to wear the ring to the office?” he blurts.

“Yes… why?”

“Uh, no reason, just…” he shrugs, trailing off. Jill slips on her heels before grabbing her bag and following him out of their apartment. “Won’t people notice?”

“They might,” she shrugs. “I don’t really mind, unless… you do?” she turns to him, biting her lip worriedly as they walk to the train station.

“I don’t mind,” he quips, taking her hand and lacing his fingers with hers. “Not at all.”

They talk about getting a marriage license on the train and Roger tries broaching the subject of the event.

“Nothing big,” she tells him decisively. “Just a small, intimate gathering with the girls, Tina, Byrne and maybe even Sandra, Allison and Jay. You can invite your former coworkers,” she suggests.

“Byrne?” Roger asks and Jill lets out an annoyed sigh.

“Roger…” she mutters, resting her hand on his arm. “I know you’re not his biggest fan, but he’s… he’s a friend, now,” she says slowly, gently patting his arm.

“Fine,” he concedes with a heavy sigh, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

“We could do it on the rooftop of the FPD office?” she adds. “Order some catering, wine and champagne? We could decorate the rooftop, make it look nicer?”

“That sounds good,” he tells her neutrally.

“This is our wedding,” she quips matter-of-factly. “You could sound a bit more enthusiastic. I’m trying here,” she smirks and he chuckles fondly. “And, I found wedding planning the first time around deeply unpleasant,” she adds.

“I can see that,” he mutters. “I just… I don’t really care about all of that. All I care about is you,” he tells her honestly, his blue eyes gazing deeply into hers and Jill can feel herself melt. “You said ‘yes’, Jill. That already makes me happy, and I can’t wait to marry you. Everything else is just white noise,” he adds before pressing another tender kiss to her forehead.

“Okay,” she concedes. “Who knew you were such a sap?” she teases, leaning on his arm.

“Only for you,” he retorts.

The subject changes to Maggie and Lizzie and the latest book he’d been reading, and before long they arrive at Chambers Street. They separate there, sharing a quick kiss before going their separate way onto Foley Square.

At first, the ring goes unnoticed, and Jill breathes out a sigh of relief, but it doesn’t take long for someone to see it. Surprisingly, however, it is Kate who first notices the ring. Jill was in Kate’s office, admiring the other woman’s impressive collection of fluorescent highlighters and tabs while discussing a high-profile fraud case.

“Jill?” Kate asks carefully.

“Hmm?”

“Is that an engagement ring?” the blonde blurts out and Jill looks up to find her blue eyes watching her curiously.

“Yes. Yes, it is,” she replies pleasantly.

“So, I take it Roger proposed?” the blonde asks.

“Yes, he did,” Jill answers, a small smile forming onto her lips.

“Well, then, I suppose congratulations are in order,” Kate says kindly.  “Congratulations, Jill. I’m happy for you. Both of you,” she offers, flashing Jill a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Kate,” she replies, pleased. There’s a pregnant pause, neither of them sure who should steer the conversation back to work before she finally breaks the silence, “back to business?”

“Yes, let’s,” Kate agrees and the two return to the case.

Unsurprisingly, the next person to find out is Tina. Jill had just gotten out of a sentencing hearing for another drug possession case, mildly annoyed with the fact that her client had gotten the mandatory minimum after all the effort she’d made. [Luckily, this time it wasn’t a repeat of the Rodrigo Puente case, but Jill felt emotionally drained nonetheless].

“You know,” Tina starts matter-of-factly, “for someone who’s just gotten engaged you don’t seem particularly thrilled.” Jill stops and stares at the other woman.

“Excuse me?”

“I saw the ring. And, I know Roger has been wanting to propose for the past week or so,” the other woman explains simply.

“Oh.”

“Well, then? He did propose, didn’t he?” Tina presses and Jill just smiles slightly, causing the other woman to nod smugly. “Congratulations, then,” Tina tells her, smiling before pulling Jill into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” she says graciously.

“Well, I’m glad you two finally got your heads out of your asses,” Tina adds with a smirk. Jill just chuckles. They talk about the proposal for a few quick seconds before the conversation switches to Jill’s mood.

“So, how bad was it?” Tina asks curiously. Jill just sighs heavily.

“How do you think it went?” she snaps none too kindly, and Tina flashes her an unimpressed glare. “Sorry. I was just hoping to be able to get him off easy, but he didn’t know anyone and he knew what he was doing, so he just got the mandatory minimum. He’s no Rodrigo Puente, but still doesn’t deserve to be going to prison for ten years,” she sighs heavily.

“Well, congratulations again. Let me know when you’re getting married if you need a witness,” the older woman jokes and Jill laughs lightly. She glances at her watch and notices her next hearing is about to start, so she tells Tina as much.

“I will, thanks,” she says before walking towards the other courtroom.

She’s in court most of the day, so she doesn’t see most of her co-workers, but Allison and Sandra find out as soon as she comes back to the office. They’re in her office, talking about Sandra’s case as Jill sorts through her files when Allison spots the ring, letting out a soft shriek.

“Jill! Are you and Roger engaged?” she blurts and Sandra’s gaze snaps over to Jill.

“Roger proposed?” the blonde asks, stunned.

Jill stops and looks up to meet two curious gazes.

“Yes,” she replies, smiling fondly.

“Congratulations!” both women exclaim in unison before rushing around the desk to pull her in for quick side hugs.

“Thank you,” she says kindly, smiling at them.

The noise doesn’t go unnoticed by Ted or Jay and soon the guys are also in her office, offering their enthusiastic congratulations.

“Thanks, everyone,” she repeats. Other people in the office also drop by and Jay brings out a box of donuts from the kitchen to celebrate, and once her office gets too crowded they move the quick celebration to the bullpen.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that half of Roger’s former colleagues knew about the engagement, but she is when she goes to meet Kate and Leonard with Allion, and is stopped by people offering their congratulations. [She knew that Seth would have found out eventually if not from Kate, then from Jay. Leonard Knox would have also found out and probably a few others, too. But, still, having Roger’s colleagues congratulate her on her engagement is a little strange and unnerving].

“Sorry,” Kate apologizes as soon as Jill enters her office, Allison trailing after her. Leonard is standing beside Kate, his gaze unreadable. “I tried to keep it contained, but certain people couldn’t keep their mouths shut,” she tells her, glancing pointedly at Leonard.

“It’s fine,” Jill smiles. “At least Roger’s not here to hear it,” she adds with a smirk and Kate chuckles.

“I should offer my congratulations as well, Jill,” Leonard says smoothly, his lips curling into a smile. “Send Roger my best,” he adds with a smirk.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” she replies politely.

A few more pleasantries are exchanged before Jill decides to bring everyone back to the matter at hand.

“Well, we didn’t come here for no reason,” she interrupts before continuing, “we should discuss the case.”

“Of course,” Kate agrees immediately.

She and Allison end up spending the better part of the afternoon discussing the case and Jill only manages to leave the U.S. Attorney’s Office close to six-thirty. She drops by her office to grab a few files before making her way across Foley Square to meet Roger. She spots him sitting on a bench, a book in front of him, and she smiles fondly

“Hey,” he greets her with a smile, relaxed before pulling her in for an embrace.

“Hi,” she mutters against his cheek before turning her head to brush her lips against his for a chaste kiss. When they pull away, she laces their fingers together as they walk to Chambers Street.

“How was your day?” he asks curiously.

“Fine. Tiring. You should know that half your office and my office know about our engagement,” she tells him with a soft smile.

“Jill!”

“Kate found out during our meeting this morning, Tina found out from you-” he cuts her off, rolling his eyes.

“How is it my fault?” he asks, half-turning towards her in mock-irritation.  

“She knew you were proposing,” Jill explains with a sigh and she sees realization dawn on his face. She glances at him pointedly.

“I… needed… help?” It sounds more like a question and Jill laughs, bumping him lightly with her shoulder.

“Anyways, the others in my office found out when Allison and Sandra couldn’t keep their excitement in check,” she continues with smirk.

“And my office?”

“Leonard and Seth found out from Kate and couldn’t keep it to themselves,” Jill explains and Roger sighs heavily.

“Great,” he grumbles as they reach the apartment. “I hope Delap doesn’t know,” he adds with an eye roll. “I don’t want to have to invite him to the wedding.”

Jill just laughs as he opens the door. As soon as they’re inside, all pretense is gone and she’s in his arms, her own arms wrapped around his neck, their lips barely inches from each other.

“I missed you,” he mumbles against her lips and Jill grins.

“I missed you, too,” she whispers, her hands rubbing against his back. “I love you,” she says, her voice steady, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“We’re getting married,” he whispers, wonder and happiness clear in his voice, as if he still can’t quite believe it.

“We are,” she agrees with a smirk. “We are.”

Roger tightens his hold on her, “God, I love you,” he mutters before brushing his lips against hers. Jill returns the kiss just as eagerly, her fingers tugging down his coat as Roger starts unbuttoning her shirt. When air becomes a necessity, they pull away, and Roger pushes off her blazer.

“Bedroom?” she suggests and Roger doesn’t even reply before practically dragging her to the bedroom.

After a heady, passionate round of lovemaking, they finally drag themselves to the kitchen and Jill opens the boxes of Chinese takeout while Roger pours them two glasses of wine.

Roger’s phone beeps with a Skype notification and Jill moves into a sitting position, moving closer to him as he video calls Maggie.

Maggie and Lizzie are thrilled with the news, and announce they’d be coming to New York as soon as Roger and Jill tell them the date. [They hadn’t discussed that yet, just like they hadn’t discussed every other aspect of the wedding]. They stay and chat with the girls about school, baseball, Maggie’s college, Lizzie’s forever-narrowing college list before Jill announces she’s going to get ready for bed so Roger can keep talking to the girls.

“The girls are really happy,” Roger muses as he enters their bedroom while Jill is brushing her teeth. Jill hums in response before spitting out the toothpaste and turning to him.

“I noticed,” she says with fond smile, glancing sideways at him. “I didn’t know Maggie is such a bridezilla,” she adds with an amused chuckle.

“Yeah,” he nods. “When Renée’s sister got married, Maggie was really involved. I honestly don’t know why she likes weddings,” he shrugs, his eyes flickering to the ceiling. “Lizzie’s the artist of the family, so she likes the dress shopping and invitation designing and all that…” he gestures around them.

“Well, Maggie may be right about one thing,” she says with a sigh before continuing, “we should at least figure out who we’re inviting,” she looks at him carefully.

“I don’t want a lot of people coming,” he tells her seriously.

“Well, me neither,” she agrees. “There were a lot of people at my first wedding and that didn’t end very well,” she smirks at him, amused.

“Agreed. We can just tell people from work they can come, but they don't have to,” Roger suggests, and she nods in agreement. “Friends?”

“I can’t say I have friends I’d like to invite- being a public defender with hundreds of cases per week will do that to you,” she tells him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’ll probably ask Yoli, my best friend from law school to come. We worked together at Cordyn&Walsh, but then I left,” she tells him.

“I drifted apart from most of my friends from law school, so that’s a no. I’d probably invite Luke and Derek. Worked with them for the Southern District, but they moved on,” he tells her.

“Family,” she asks, lifting her gaze to meet his. “I don’t- I don’t really have family to invite. My parents died when I was still working for Cordyn&Walsh. Car accident. And, I don’t know where Cynthia is, so…” she trails off sadly and Roger rubs her back gently.

“I, uh, don’t really have much family I’d invite either. My daughters are my family. I never really knew my dad, and my mom died when I was still in law school,” he sighs and she returns the gesture. “And, I don’t want to invite my brother,” he says off-handedly before standing up and going to the bathroom to brush his teeth as if he hadn’t just thrown her a curveball. Jill follows him, shock evident on her face.

“You have a brother?” she blurts and Roger stops what he’d been doing, spitting out the toothpaste before looking over at her uncertainly.

“Yeah,” he shrugs indifferently.

“Well, I didn’t know that,” she quips, meeting his gaze. “You never told me you have a brother,” she adds, arching an eyebrow. Roger is quiet for a second, and briefly Jill regrets pushing the subject, but she’d been genuinely surprised.

“I don’t really want to talk about him,” Roger says with finality before moving to the sink as Jill moves into the bedroom.

“What’s his name?” she enquires curiously.

“Jill,” he replies, a clear warning in his tone. There’s a pregnant pause, and Jill thinks he won’t give her an answer, but he does, “Ira. Now, can we not talk about this?” he asks rhetorically and Jill sighs.

He joins her minutes later and she scoots closer to him, burying herself into his side, expecting him to reciprocate but Roger is rigid and unmoving, his eyes trained on the ceiling. She turns on her side, then, her mind drifting to her own sibling despite, wondering where she might be. [Jill remembers Cynthia’s reaction when she’d told her Cliff had proposed – _He’s not gonna make you happy, Jill._ They’d argued a lot those days, and Jill remembers how Yoli had sat them both down and told them to figure it out. How they’d both cried, but eventually Cynthia had sighed unhappily and accepted. She’d often asked herself if she should have listened to her little sister, for once. Cynthia had been her maid of honor, had adjusted her veil, smoothed down her white dress, held her bouquet as she and Cliff recited their vows and had sat with her when her feet had ached and she couldn’t dance. Cynthia would probably like Roger. Or, she’d tell her _I told you so_ about Cliff. Cynthia would argue with Jill about her wedding dress and venue and would drive Jill nuts, but Jill would still be happy because _she would be there._ But, Cynthia was gone and did not even know who Roger was much less that they were getting married]. She doesn’t realize she’d been crying until she feels Roger’s thumb gently wipe away the stray tears that had fallen onto her cheek, and she turns to face him.

“What is it?” he asks gently, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb gently caressing it.

“Nothing,” she sighs, her gaze drifting to stare at the ceiling.

“Jill,” he says carefully, and briefly she turns to face him once again, and she’s struck by the vulnerability and raw emotion so clear in his eyes. “Cynthia?” he asks gently, and she nods through her tears before swiping at her eyes, not wanting to cry. “I’m sorry,” he says, and she moves closer to him, letting him envelop her in his embrace, burying her nose in the crook of his neck and sniffling softly. “I’m sorry,” she hears him mumble in her ear. They stay like this for a few seconds before pulling away and Jill rests her head on his chest as Roger gently caresses her side.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she trails off and sighs softly. “I just- I miss her, and I can’t… sometimes it just hits me, you know? That my life goes on and she’s somewhere and I don’t know…” she trails off and Roger bends to press a tender kiss to the top of her head. “And, you- you have a brother that you’re not talking to or that you haven’t mentioned in all the time we’ve been together and I just- I would give anything to know where Cynthia was. Anything,” she finishes, her eyes glassy with tears.  

“I’m sorry,” he says regretfully. “I didn’t mean to make you sad,” he says and she nods. “I just… I just don’t like talking about him,” he lets out a heavy sigh as his eyes drift to the ceiling.

“I shouldn’t have pushed,” she concedes with a sigh. “And, I don’t want to pry, but just know I’ll always be there for you,” she finishes, pressing a kiss to his jaw. Roger shifts and looks away from the ceiling, his blue eyes finding hers. Jill meets his gaze, her eyes searching his as he takes her hand and interlaces their fingers, his thumb rubbing over the ridges of her engagement ring.  “You can tell me, Roger, you know that,” she adds after a few moments of silence, lifting their joined hands to press a kiss to his knuckles.

“It’s not exactly a big deal, I guess…” he starts with a sigh, and Jill squeezes his hand in comfort. “Ira and I- after our mom died – even before that – we did a lot of stuff together. He was barely a year younger than me, so we were in the same grade all through school, went to college together, then law school,” he hesitates for a second before continuing, “and the U.S. Attorney’s Office in the Southern District,” he finishes and Jill can’t help but stare at him, shocked. “Years ago, before you got here I think – definitely before we went up against each other for the first time – Tanner and I were on a case together. It was a tough case, and seemed impossible to win, but- Byrne wanted us to win and Ira wanted to win it so he could please the boss, so…” There’s a pregnant pause as Roger’s gaze flickers to the ceiling and back to Jill, before he finally continues, “so he crossed a line. And, I couldn’t trust him after that,” he finishes, his voice thick with emotion. “He left to work for some corporate firm. Now, can we not talk about my brother?” He wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her closer and presses his body into her back, kissing her neck gently. Jill moans softly, and turns, burying into him, nuzzling his neck.

“Okay,” she mumbles softly in his neck. They lie like that for a while longer before Roger rolls on his back and Jill lays her head on his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist. [Jill has the feeling there’s more to it, but she decides not to pry].

There’s a pregnant pause before Roger breaks the silence, his voice quiet and thick with emotion, “Renée cheated on me with him. With my brother,” he says and Jill can’t help but gasp.

“Roger…” she lifts her head to look at him, curiosity clear in her eyes.

“It was before the divorce. Long before the divorce. And, I stayed,” he sighs heavily. “I could have… I could have left her then, but I just- I just couldn’t.”

“The girls?” Jill wonders, tracing circles on his chest.

“The girls were definitely part of the reason, yes. And, I still loved her then. And, it was easier for me, I guess, to blame Ira for it, so I stayed. But, things weren’t the same after that and eventually… you know, we fell apart,” he admits sadly. Jill sighs softly and shifts slightly to press a kiss to his jaw. “It doesn’t matter now, though. Renée and I were never right for each other. And, I have you, now. And, you’re all I need, and exactly right for me,” he says softly and Jill can’t help but chuckle amused at how cheesy he sounds. “What?”

“God, you’re such a sap sometimes,” she tells him teasingly.

“You love me for it,” he quips, his voice husky and heavy with tiredness.

“Hmm, that I do,” she tells him softly. “Now, let’s go to sleep,” she adds sleepily and Roger pulls her closer.

* * *

Jill hadn’t imagined her second wedding. [She hadn’t really imagined her first wedding either, but that was beside the point]. And yet, here she was just a few days from her second wedding, trying to avoid wedding planning. [And, failing miserably].

“So, what kind of dress would you like?” Maggie asks her from across the kitchen island, cup of coffee in hand, scribbling absentmindedly in her notebook – their Wedding Journal – as she calls it. Jill looks up in surprise.

“I already have a dress,” she answers triumphantly.

“Really?” the eldest of Roger’s two daughters asks, quirking an incredulous eyebrow. [Maggie and Lizzie had landed the day before, and already Maggie had gone full wedding planner. Lizzie had taken a less bridezilla-like approach; she’d designed wedding invitations and emailed them more than a week ago, and she’d selected a few modest bouquets and decorations for the venue from the local florist’s shop]. They’d both insisted they didn’t need a fancy wedding venue, but Maggie had listed the benefits for having one, and eventually convinced them to agree to book a small restaurant with a rooftop terrace where they would be able to have the ceremony and a small dinner to celebrate afterwards. [Roger had given in quickly, and Jill wasn’t about to argue].

“Yes,” Jill quips, her tone serious.

“May I see?”

Jill lets out a dramatic sigh before getting up to go to her closet. Roger was getting ready, and merely watches amused as she slips on the dress she’d had in mind, the silky material sliding easily over her curves.

“What?” she quips with a sigh.

“Nothing,” he replies innocently. “You look beautiful,” he adds before pulling her in for a quick kiss. She kisses him back eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he cups her cheeks gently. When air becomes a necessity, they pull away reluctantly and Jill twirls in the airy dress much to Roger’s amusement before making her way to the living room where Lizzie had joined Maggie and the two girls look over her, twin skeptical expressions on their faces.

“What’s with the face?” she asks, raising an eyebrow just as Roger enters the living room right behind her.

“I think you look great,” he quips, and Jill doesn’t have to turn around to see the smug look on his face.

“Of course you do,” Maggie retorts with an eye roll, crossing her arms.

“It’s not that bad,” Lizzie pipes up from beside her sister.

“I’m not saying it’s bad,” Maggie snaps. “It’s great for an awards dinner. It’s just not great for a wedding. _Your_ wedding,” Maggie argues, emphasizing the word ‘your’ pointedly. “So, do you have time to go dress-shopping today?” she adds. Lizzie stifles a laugh and Jill can hear Roger cough to hide his own laughter.

“Maggie” she rolls her eyes. “I have cases. People’s lives depend on me. I can’t go wedding dress shopping,” she adds incredulously. Turning to her fiancé, she pleads helplessly, “Roger, help me out here, please,” but Roger just chuckles, amused, and shakes his head.

“Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got to go,” he tells her instead before walking over to her and cupping her cheeks, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “I told you we should’ve eloped,” he smirks, his thumb sliding down her jaw. “We’d be married already.”

“Dad!” Maggie exclaims, indignant. Jill just sighs, only slightly annoyed.

“Now we have no choice,” she mumbles in his ear.

“Enjoy!” he adds, a little too smugly, before he’s out the door, leaving Jill at the hands of his well-meaning, but incredibly insistent daughters.

“I have a hearing this morning,” Jill tells the girls in all seriousness she could muster.

“This afternoon, then?” Maggie suggests, her lips curling into a half-smile.

“Fine,” she relents with a sigh. [It would be futile to continue arguing, and she figures that the sooner she gets it over with, the better].

“Great. We’ll meet you for lunch, and then we can go,” Maggie says cheerfully while Lizzie just grins.

Grateful, she rushes to get dressed for work and grab her bag as the two girls finish their breakfast.

“Girls,” she adds just as she’s about to run out the door, “nothing white, nothing creamy and bride-like. Okay?” Maggie and Lizzie both nod seriously in agreement, and then she’s out of the apartment.

Dress-shopping ends up not being the worst experience, and Jill kind of enjoys it. _Kind of_. She ends up vetoing most of the girls’ suggestions until Lizzie pulls out a cobalt blue dress Jill falls in love with immediately. It fits her like a sleeve, made of soft, silky material that clings perfectly to her waist, the skirt flowing down to her knees and an asymmetric hemline, the neckline a modest V-shape.

“It’s beautiful,” both girls agree and Jill basks in the moment for a second, and allows herself to buy this dress that she normally wouldn’t buy for herself. [ _This is for your wedding,_ her brain supplies helpfully]. Maggie and Lizzie then convince Jill to buy a pair of heels to match, and neither of them object when Jill chooses a pair of nude leather pumps.

The wedding had been easy to put together. They’d only invited a handful of friends, family and coworkers, had managed to book the rooftop terrace of a small restaurant as the wedding venue, had chosen rings and found an officiant. Lizzie had designed simple invitations and emailed them, and picked flowers to decorate the venue with along with a small, modest bouquet. Roger had also booked a hotel for the two of them to spend the night since Maggie and Lizzie were staying at their place and they’d both managed to get the next week off to go on a short honeymoon. [They’re both too workaholic to take more time off]. According to Maggie’s extensive checklist everything was ready.

Before she’d married Cliff, Yoli and another law school friend had organized a flashy hen’s party, strippers and all. This time, Yoli takes her out for a spa day and they drink champagne from fancy glasses while talking about how much things had changed. [Roger was having his own version of a bachelor’s party; dinner with his daughters followed by a movie]. She’s pleasantly drunk when she stumbles into the apartment and Roger looks up from the book he’d been reading, watching her amused.

“Had a fun time?” he asks as she topples rather ungracefully onto the bed.

“Yeess!” she replies, dragging out the word, grinning at him.

“Okay, well, time to sleep,” he puts the book away and stands up, offering her his hand.

“Nope, I’d rather spend time with you!” she shakes her head, throwing her heels off.

“Well, you’re going to be sleeping with me, so…” he smirks at her, helping her up. With his help, she kind of manages to free herself of her clothes and slips on a baby blue colored slip dress. Despite Roger’s many protests, they end up having a few rounds of rather awkward sex, and she wakes up the next morning half undressed, covered by the duvet as Roger gets ready. There’s Advil and a tall glass of water on the nightstand along with coffee, and he presses a kiss to her forehead before he’s out the door. Gratefully, Jill swallows down two Advil’s before drinking her coffee before taking a quick shower. Ten minutes later, she stumbles into the living room where Yoli, Maggie and Lizzie are waiting for her.

* * *

Sandra hadn’t been to many weddings herself, but here she was, wearing a dark silver pleated skirt and a powdered pink lace crop top, holding onto Ted’s arm as the two of them walked up the stairs of the restaurant to the terrace where Jill and Roger’s wedding was supposed to be.

They were half-eloping, as the entire office had received an emailed invitation, though Jill had told them none of them were forced to come. As far as Sandra knew, Allison, Jay, Ted and herself, Kerri, Andrew and his husband were all coming. From the other side of Foley Square, Sandra knew that Kate, Leonard and Seth were also coming. She also knew that a handful of family and friends had received the same non-obligatory invitation by email.

“Sandra?” Ted says carefully, and she turns, stopping before entering.  

“Ted,” she drawls back, smirking. “What’s up?”

“You are aware this is the first event we’re going to together?” he smirks flirtatiously and she grins.

“Is it?” she flirts back.

“It seems to be,” he grins, his hand cupping her cheek as he leans down towards her.

“Good,” she nods.

“Good,” he agrees before brushing his lips against hers. She kisses him back, and before she knows it, they lose themselves in it.

“Really?” someone snaps from behind her, and Sandra blushes furiously as they break apart before turning around only to find Allison, Seth and Jay coming up the stairs.

“Al!” she exclaims breathlessly as Ted rests his arm around her waist. “Oh, um, hi guys,” she greets them shyly and she sees Allison roll her eyes. Allison looks gorgeous in a sleeveless black A-line dress with lacy hem, her curly hair pinned in a half-up hairstyle. Jay and Seth are both wearing suits, though Seth had paired his with a ridiculous-looking bow tie while Jay had simply gone without.

“Hey, guys,” Ted, who’d recovered much quicker than her, greets, his hand reassuring on her waist.

“Hi,” Allison, Seth and Jay reply in unison. Ted opens the door, leading her inside, and the others follow along.

“What’s with the bow tie?” Sandra directs the question to Seth after they’d all grabbed drinks.

“Finally!”

“Thank you!”

“Really? It’s nice,” Seth argues and Sandra just chuckles before taking another sip of her cocktail.

“Really, dude?” someone says from behind her, but Sandra doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s Leonard Knox. Instead, she watches Allison’s reaction. Her best friend freezes and plasters a pleasant smile on her face as the rest of them turn to find Leonard Knox and Kate Littlejohn enter. And, Sandra’s breath is taken away as soon as she sees Kate Littlejohn. She’s used to seeing Kate wearing conservative, well-tailored pantsuits with flowery button up shirts, her blonde hair tucked behind her ear, so she’s entirely shocked and left speechless as soon as she sees the blonde. Kate’s wearing a spaghetti strap white dress covered in big, bold, dark and light blue flower patterns that bring out her eyes, standing taller than usual in a delicate pair of light blue heels. Her blonde hair is slightly wavy, still tucked behind one ear.

“Oh, lord, Seth,” Kate adds in regards to Seth’s terrible bow tie before walking closer to them. They all exchange hugs, and Allison and Leonard linger with her and Ted as Kate joins Jay and Seth. More people enter, and Sandra soon spots Jill and Roger, entering together, arm in arm. Jill looks gorgeous, wearing a vibrant cobalt blue A-line dress with a modest V-neckline and an asymmetric hem, her blonde hair curled loosely and she looks incredibly happy as she walks alongside Roger, her arm looped through his. Half the time, Sandra’s pretty sure Roger’s eyes are only on Jill, a mixture of wonder and adoration on his face. They reach them, Sandra’s standing between Ted and Kate, Allison’s standing beside Leonard, the two of them chatting quietly, Jay, Seth, Kerri and Celia Chavez completing their semicircle.

“Thanks for coming, everyone,” Jill tells them, a pleasant smile.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it!” they chorus, and Sandra along with Allison give Jill quick side hugs before handing the couple the presents they’d all brought.

“You didn’t have to!” Jill exclaims graciously. “But thank you,” she adds with a smile.

“Oliver, do you have another press conference?” Roger quips cynically, and she sees Seth blush furiously as several pointed gazes, including hers, turn towards him.

“I told you not to,” Jay pipes up from beside him.

“I told you, Seth. You look ridiculous,” Kate informs him, her face serious.

“Dude…” Leonard deadpans.

“Ow,” Roger grunts and Sandra spots Jill elbowing him as everyone else chuckles.

“This is a celebration,” she tells her fiancé quietly. “Stop it,” she hisses and he just smiles at her, his body angled towards her as if they’re the only people in the room. [Sandra has the feeling that’s how they feel]. Ted tightens his grip on her waist and she smiles as she watches the others continue chatting.

Seconds later, two young women whom Sandra knew to be Roger’s daughters Maggie and Lizzie approach them, wearing pale yellow A-line dresses with brighter yellow sashes tied around the waist.

“Everyone,” Roger announces as the two young women approach them. “These are my daughters, Maggie and Lizzie,” he introduces. “Girls, these are Jill’s coworkers and my former coworkers,” he continues, gesturing around them.

More pleasantries are exchanged, and then they continue to mingle, separating slightly. Judge Byrne and Tina arrive as well, and then once it seems all the guests are there, a woman Jill’s age claps her hands, prompting the wedding party to fall into place. Roger pulls Jill towards him, and they stand facing each other, holding hands, both of them smiling happily. Kate’s standing across from her, and for some odd reason, Sandra’s meets her gaze as she leans into Ted.

“Everyone, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the marriage of Roger Gunn and Jill Carlan,” says the officiant, his deep voice booming.

* * *

“You look beautiful,” Roger whispers in her ear as he pulls her towards him while everyone else assembles around them, his voice husky. She blushes, her lips curling into a smile as she looks up to meet his gaze.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself,” she tells him with smile.

“Shall we?” he asks her, offering her his arm. She smiles, slipping her own arm through his.

“We shall,” she tells him.

Jill doesn’t pay attention to the officiant or anyone else around them, her green eyes locked with Roger’s, their fingers interlaced.

“The bride and groom have prepared their own vows,” the officiant interrupts her thoughts. “Roger?”

“Jill, for a long time we insisted we were just people who went up against each other in court and went to baseball games together. But, we both know that for a while we’ve been more than that,” he smiles at her, his blue eyes suddenly seeming deeply blue, and she melts. “For a long time, I stopped believing I’d fall in love again, and then I realized that the love of my life was always there. You. It’s always been you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion and Jill can feel tears prickle her eyes as she gives his hands a light squeeze. “And, since I realized how I felt- how I’ve always felt about you, I knew I wanted to marry you. I once told you, I’d be better at marriage the second time because it takes practice. That’s not entirely true. I’ve taken a lot of things for granted, and sometimes, I even took you for granted, but I do know that these moments don’t last forever. And, I’d never take you for granted again. The truth is that I would be better at marriage the second time because it would be with you. Because you make me better. A better lawyer, a better man, a better person. I know that I’m not perfect, but I promise to always love you, respect you, listen to you, argue with you, support you and be your husband first and foremost for the rest of our lives,” he finishes and Jill’s almost sure she’s about to burst into tears.

“Now, Roger Gunn, how the hell am I supposed to top that?” she quips, half-chuckling through her tears. Roger just smirks as everyone else laughs.

“Okay, well, here it goes. We’ve both been here before, and you know that after the first time around, I didn’t think I could do this again. I didn’t think I would fall in love again. And, I was afraid that if I did, history would just repeat itself. So, I was happy for us to just be people who go to baseball games despite the fact that I wanted more. But, then you kissed me and everything changed. I know that I fought it at first, but now, Roger, I can’t imagine living alongside anyone else for the rest of my life. You taught me to believe in love again. Y- you gave up your job for me – your dream job, no less – and I’m so incredibly grateful because we don’t have to choose anymore, and we don’t have to pretend that a part of who we are as individuals doesn’t exist. You taught me that some risks are worth taking, and I’m so grateful I took this one because you make me so incredibly happy,” she smiles at him, and she can see the emotion and vulnerability clear in his eyes that reflect her own. Roger squeezes her hands gently, and she continues, “you are the strongest man I know and you make me stronger. You know me, sometimes too well,” she chuckles. “You get me. You complete me. You challenge me. You make me a better person. And, I’m so happy and incredibly grateful we’re on the same team,” she grins at him and he winks. “I promise you to always love you, to argue with you, to respect you, to listen to you, support you, be faithful to you and be your wife first and foremost for the rest of our lives,” she finishes, her voice barely above a whisper. [They’d agreed to keep the last part the same, and Jill can see Roger’s breath hitch when she says ‘be faithful to you’. She’d thought to include it, that a verbal reassurance would cement it, and she knows he returns the sentiment, though his was a given].

“Jill Carlan, who knew you could be such a romantic?” he teases, smirking.

“Shut up,” she retorts. Maggie approaches them, opening her palm to reveal the two thin wedding bands they’d chosen.

“Alright, do you Roger Gunn take Jill Carlan to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the officiant asks as Roger takes the smaller band.

“I do,” Roger says, his blue eyes twinkling as he fits the wedding band on her ring finger.

“Do you Jill Carlan take Roger Gunn to be your lawfully wedded husband?” She takes the wedding band from Maggie and takes Roger’s hand in her own.

“I do,” she says softly, fitting the wedding band on his left ring finger.

“Then by the power vested in me by the State of New York, I pronounce you married. You may kiss the bride,” the officiant announces as they continue grinning stupidly not caring about anyone else.

“We’re married,” Roger breathes lowly as he pulls her closer to him. She lets out a soft laugh. “Can you kiss me please, Jill?” he asks her, still smiling at her. She doesn’t care about anything as she tilts her head up and presses her lips to his, her hands winding around his neck, everyone’s cheers and applauses ringing in her ear, Roger’s hands firm on her waist.


	8. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger and Jill are trapped in an elevator and Jill finds out something new about Roger. For TeaNSympathy, who inspired me to write this in record time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this story contains a panic attack and claustrophobia. I tried to write this as realistically as possible, but since I've never experienced a panic attack and I do not have claustrophobia I couldn't write it super accurately, so here is my attempt. Hope I did this justice and you enjoy!  
> xx

It turns out that when you move in with someone, you learn all the things they tried to hide while you were dating but living separately. Sure, Jill had spent a lot of time at Roger’s apartment, especially in the weeks after Roger had quit his job, but it seemed that now that they lived together, things were different.

Like how Roger could cook, and cook well, but he hardly ever did because he was too much of a workaholic. Or, how he preferred to drink whiskey every time he was worked up over a case. Or, how he was an organized clean freak and sorted his socks and ties by color and size. She also found out that Roger jogged, mostly in the mornings, but sometimes in the evenings too. [It was the times he was worked up over a case that he would go for a jog as soon as they came home]. Jill loved finding out all these little things that made Roger Gunn who he was, even if sometimes they drove her crazy.   

Another thing that Jill had been trying to figure out over the course of their relationship was Roger’s strange behavior every time there was a crowd or a small space involved. This, she’d noticed the first time they’d gone to a baseball game together. The way he’d kind of sat back, letting her get overly excited, only cheering when the Yankees scored, and still that had been subdued as if he wanted everyone around him to disappear. Watching games at home, over glasses of wine and boxes of Chinese takeout, it was another thing altogether. His acerbic commentary kept her entertained, and she loved getting into little debates over different aspects of the game. She’d also noticed that every time the subway was too crowded, Roger would much rather wait for the next emptier one than cram along with the other passengers. He lived in a high rise building, so the necessity of using the elevator was a given, though he preferred to use it along with her. If he was alone, most of the time he took the stairs which she often teased him about. [There was also the fact that he always sat in aisle at the cinema or on planes]. Still, they’d never talked about it, and Jill wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, so she’d never asked, worried for his reaction. 

* * *

Roger Gunn wasn’t a big fan of elevators and other small spaces or crowds, and he usually avoids them at all costs though he tries to hide it. [He’s sure Jill knows, or suspects at least; they’d been dating for the better part of the past year, but neither of them had brought the matter up, so Roger just ignores it].

Still, on this particular morning, he follows her into the elevator. [She has a big, high-profile case she’d been prepping for the past week or so, and she’s in a hurry, so he doesn’t even suggest the stairs].

The elevator’s doors shut, and Jill returns to describing – in great detail – the intricate details of her high-profile case. Roger likes it when Jill, subconsciously, talks while they’re on the elevator. It distracts him and grounds him at the same time, and the seconds tick by more quickly with her running commentary.

“That’s gonna be a tough defense,” Roger quips as the elevator begins descending with an agonizingly slow speed. He can feel his heartrate quicken and he curls his hands into fists, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself before focusing his attention on Jill.

“It’s not just that using mental disorder as a defense is unpredictable, it’s that I’m not even sure it’s the best defense. I mean, sure in theory it’s supposed to apply to all crimes, but in practice…” she trails off as he leans against the wall of the elevator, his eyes trained on the floor number display. “And, besides, sh-” she’s cut off by the elevator dropping to an abrupt halt, the lights flickering slightly. Roger’s breath hitches as she stumbles into him, and he catches her before she manages to steady herself. “Okay, did this thing just stop?” she wonders as the lights stop flickering and Roger’s eyes drift to the floor display.

“Yes, but I’m sure it’ll start soon,” Roger tells her, trying to sound reassuring, though he can feel the numbing feeling of panic. He tries the doors, but they’re sealed shut, and his heart beats faster in his chest as his stomach plummets. _No!_ his mind screams. _No, this cannot be happening! No!_ “Well, great, we’re trapped,” he mutters, his breath hitching, as he starts pacing while Jill pulls out her phone.

“This is about to get a whole lot worse,” she mutters sarcastically before adding, “I have no service.” Roger drops his head in defeat. Thankfully, the lights stop flickering, but he doesn’t feel any more reassured. If anything, the panic seems to multiply as times ticks by. “Just fantastic,” Jill mutters, annoyed, and he looks over at her, seeing the distress on her face. [It’s probably mostly annoyance she’s missing the first day of trial, not overwhelming panic like he’s feeling]. Roger continues to pace.

He was having a panic attack; Roger was well aware of the fact. From the moment they’d gotten on the elevator, he’d braced himself for the clammy hands, the elevated heartrate, the roughly three hundred seconds it would take to get to the lobby. But then, the elevator had stopped abruptly and he’d felt the overwhelming sense of dread as he’d realized they were stuck.

Blood pounded in his ears and his heart hammered in his chest as he started pacing. His hands shook, his feet tingled, and he could not breathe. That was the thing he hated the most, the feeling of not having enough air, of not being able to breathe. _In and out_ , he reminded himself, trying to steady himself, but he couldn’t. He could not breathe and his chest felt like it was on fire. _In and out._

“Roger? Are you okay?” Her voice cuts through the haze, if only briefly, and he clings to it like it’s a lifeline. He doesn’t answer though, his throat too constricted. “Roger,” she tries again as he reaches, almost automatically, to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. _In and out._ _In and out._ His vision is disfigured, but he can still make out her shape – Jill – reaching out for him, but still hesitant.

He can’t breathe and he can feel his heart thudding in his chest as he curls his hands in fists, trying to stop them from shaking.

“Yeah… fine,” he grunts breathlessly, straining himself to breathe, but he can’t. He can’t breathe. “I- I’m fine…” he stutters out, gasping for air breathlessly, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Roger?” Jill tries again, her voice distorted, like he’s underwater. She inches closer to him, but he flinches almost automatically. His back hits the wall, reminding him of the small space he is in, and his heart stutters in his chest as he tries to breathe in as much air as he can, though it feels as if there isn’t enough air. His eyes drift around the small space, the four walls, the mirror on the wall behind him, the button panel, the floor display, the two doors that are sealed shut. _Trapped._ He’s trapped. He feels sweat run down his brow and he grips the railing behind him tightly as he tries to breathe. _In and out_ , a voice reminds him, repeating it like a mantra. _In and out._ He can’t breathe.

“Roger, it’s okay,” she adds gently, reaching for him again, but he shakes his head vehemently.

“I just… I ju- I hate feeling trapped!” he snaps, his voice raising in pitch and he sees her wince.

“Roger,” she repeats, her voice soft and gentle as she steps closer to him, reaching to touch him. This time, he lets her, and she reaches to rest her hands on his shoulders, comforting and reassuring. He relaxes beneath her touch and meets her gaze, finding warmth in her green eyes.

* * *

It clicks to her then, all the times he’d avoided crowds and small spaces. [Jill had thought it was just a quirk, just a weird Roger Gunn thing when he’d told her he preferred to sit on the aisle at cinemas. Or, how he’d always wait for an emptier subway. Or, the time their subway to the stadium had gotten stuck and a crowd of people were waiting and Roger had suggested they go wait somewhere else].

“You don’t like small spaces,” she says matter-of-factly, her hands still resting on his shoulders.

“Not… really…” he stutters out, still gasping for air, his head bowed, his brow sweaty.

“It’s okay,” she says gently, moving her hands to cup his cheeks, her thumbs brushing gently along his jawline.

Roger tries to breathe in again, but his breath ragged, forced like he doesn’t have enough air and she can feel him tremble with fear.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she says slowly, but Roger doesn’t seem to hear her, still trying to breathe, his breath coming out in short gasps. “Hey, Roger,” she says gently though her own pulse is quickening with worry. “Hey, breathe, you have to breathe,” she encourages, her palms still resting against his cheeks, her thumbs rubbing against his jaw. “Breathe,” she repeats and her heart aches upon seeing him struggling to catch breath. “You have to breathe,” she encourages, moving one hand to rub his back. “C’mon, in and out, Roger,” she urges, inhaling slowly before exhaling herself. Roger attempts to mimic her, but his breathing is still ragged, and he still can’t quite catch his breath. She can feel his pulse, thrumming frantically beneath his skin which seems to agitate him even more, and it hurts her to see him like this. “In and out,” she repeats, rubbing his back gently before repeating the motion and Roger does the same. This time, Roger’s breathing is a little steadier as he inhales and exhales, though he grimaces like he’s in pain. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” she soothes gently, continuing to rub his back. They inhale and exhale several times, Roger’s breathing becoming slightly more steady each time as he moves his hands up, fitting his hands over hers, his hands still sweaty. “In and out,” she says softly, continuing to run her hand up and down his back. Another ragged inhale and exhale. “Just breathe,” she urges, not breaking his gaze. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” she continues, her voice gentle. “Just breathe. In and out,” she inhales and exhales, and Roger copies her, his blue eyes focused on hers. “In and out.”

Eventually, Roger finally calms down, and they sink to the floor gracelessly. She keeps her hand on his back, moving her other hand to rest on his arm as he drops his head between his knees, continuing to inhale and exhale softly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she says, breaking the silence that had settled between them, and Roger shakes his head, not looking up to meet her gaze. “Roger, it’s okay, I’m not going to judge you,” she adds, shifting closer to him, but he tenses up, so she shifts back, still keeping her hands on him.

“I’m fine,” Roger mutters under his breath, his head still bowed.

“Roger, look at me,” she says softly, moving one hand to cup his cheek, her thumb rubbing along her jaw. “ _Look at me_ ,” she repeats, more firmly this time. Finally, he looks up and turns to meet her gaze, pain still clear in his blue eyes and Jill just sighs softly.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters sadly, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“Roger Gunn, you have nothing to be sorry about,” she says determinedly. “Nothing,” she repeats though Roger doesn’t look so sure. “These things happen,” she hesitates, not sure she wants to bring it up. “Cynthia used to have panic attacks,” she finally says with a sigh. “I had to learn pretty quickly how to calm her down,” she explains, her lips curling into a tentative smile.

“Thank you,” he replies, reaching to take her hand in his, lacing their fingers together as she shuffles closer to him. This time, he lets her, taking comfort in the feel of her body beside his. “Thank you, Jill,” he repeats, and she squeezes his hand gently.

Silence settles between them, though Jill’s mind is full of questions as Roger continues to inhale and exhale gently, Jill rubbing her hand against his back absentmindedly.

“I’m claustrophobic,” he admits, finally breaking the silence. “So, uh, small spaces and crowds are…” he hesitates, searching for the right word, “difficult. I haven’t had an attack like this in a while though, I’ve gotten good at managing it and hiding it,” he finishes, his gaze still holding hers steadily. Jill doesn’t blink, she just nods in understanding, her thumb rubbing across his knuckles.

“Oh. Why hide it?” she blurts before she can really sort through her thoughts. _Why hide it from me?_ goes unsaid.

“I just- I just didn’t want to seem… weak, I guess. I’ve been hiding it my whole life and I sort of got used to it. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want your pity or anything like that and it was just easier to hide it,” he confesses, his blue eyes locked with her green ones. Jill nods, understanding clear in her eyes.

“Does anyone know?” she asks curiously, still trying to come to grips with the idea that he hadn’t told _her_. [She knows she shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it, and really it isn’t, but the traitorous feeling of hurt is still there and she can’t brush it off. A part of her wonders if Roger would ever fully let her in, but she pushes that part away].

“Oh, well, uh, Renée knows. And, Delap found out by accident once. He liked to mock me with the size of my office before I left,” he tells her, and she scrunches her face at the mention of the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District. Roger just shrugs. Roger seems to sense her distress and he squeezes her hand gently, “Jill, it’s nothing to do with you that I didn’t tell you. It’s me, okay? Please don’t- don’t feel like I don’t trust you. Because I do. I trust you more than anyone,” he tells her, lifting his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing against hers. She nods, moving her head to kiss his wrist before meeting his gaze yet again. “It- I like to pretend it doesn’t… it doesn’t exist,” he adds softly and she nods in understanding.

“I’m sorry,” she answers him. “I’m sorry you’ve been going thorough this,” she adds sadly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shakes his head. “I’m fine. But, thank you for being here today and for helping me,” he adds softly.

“Of course,” she nods, her face mere inches from his. Finally, Roger closes the space between them, pressing his lips to hers, bringing his other hand up to cup her cheek. Jill responds immediately, her lips molding with his, her hands moving to fit over his as she shifts her body closer to his. Their tongues tangle together, and Jill moans as Roger bites her lower lip slightly. When air becomes a necessity, they pull away, both of them breathless and panting, their noses brushing against each other, their breaths mingling.

The elevator jolts and starts descending, so Roger stands up, extending his hand to Jill before they dust themselves off. Finally, the doors of the elevator open and they step off, both of them breathing in fresh air gratefully.

“You want to walk to work?” she asks him as they step outside. [Usually, they took the subway, but Jill doesn’t think Roger would want to deal with that right now. It would take longer, but it hardly mattered anymore as her trial date had been changed and she didn’t have anything else].

“You sure? Don’t you have a trial?” he asks uncertainly, though she can see his mood had lifted slightly at the prospect of not taking the subway. She lifts her phone to show him Sandra’s message telling her the trial was postponed.

“Not anymore,” she shrugs.  “C’mon,” she takes his hand, not waiting for Roger to say anything, and the two of them start walking down the street to Foley Square. Roger wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and presses a quick kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, Jill,” he says softly as she leans her head against his shoulder. “Thank you,” he adds.

“I love you, too, Roger,” she tells him, tilting her head up to press her lips to his.


End file.
